[{"id":7692967,"name":"Letters","trackName":"Letters","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":220.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n[Kool G. Rap]\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\nDead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nOr played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nYou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nPuttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nIt ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nThat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nTurnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nSo here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nTo ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 220000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  Or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":15419481,"name":"Letters","trackName":"Letters","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Killer Kuts","duration":217.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n[Kool G. Rap]\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\ndead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nor played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nyou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nputtin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nIt ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nthat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nturnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nso here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nto ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.64] \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n[00:26.48] \"Nigga!\"\n[00:27.52] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[00:29.85] \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n[00:32.26] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[00:34.81] \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n[00:37.46] [Kool G. Rap]\n[00:37.75] Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n[00:39.03] Got a body harder than Flintstone\n[00:40.38] Your girl got her skins boned\n[00:41.74] I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n[00:42.99] It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n[00:45.02] Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n[00:47.54] Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n[00:49.98] ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n[00:52.45] I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n[00:55.33] The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n[00:57.73] Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n[01:00.78] Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n[01:02.75] I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n[01:05.05] You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n[01:07.27] Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n[01:10.32] Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n[01:12.31] I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n[01:14.31] Or played like Jeff to the left\n[01:15.64] And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n[01:17.26] You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n[01:20.12] I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n[01:22.82] Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n[01:25.23] Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n[01:27.61] I play you like ping-pong\n[01:28.97] You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n[01:30.42] I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n[01:32.93] Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n[01:35.63] Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n[01:38.48] You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n[01:40.55] I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n[01:43.69] Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n[01:45.84] You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n[01:48.19] Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n[01:50.77] Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n[01:53.48] You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n[01:55.98] And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n[01:58.00] Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n[02:01.03] My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n[02:03.27] Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n[02:05.66] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[02:08.96] \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n[02:10.62] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[02:13.45] \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n[02:14.52] You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n[02:19.27] My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n[02:20.81] Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n[02:23.16] Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n[02:24.38] Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n[02:25.83] You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n[02:28.39] Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n[02:31.95] Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n[02:33.56] You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n[02:36.01] It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n[02:38.78] Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n[02:40.57] Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n[02:44.19] Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n[02:46.91] That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n[02:48.90] So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n[02:52.32] HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n[02:54.09] Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n[02:56.96] Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n[02:59.22] Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n[03:01.33] So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n[03:04.15] Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n[03:06.70] Red light, green light, one two three\n[03:09.61] Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n[03:11.74] 'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n[03:14.40] Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n[03:16.44] Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n[03:18.92] Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n[03:22.17] To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n[03:23.91] Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n[03:26.73] See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n[03:29.62] Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n[03:31.93] I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n[03:33.51] Pick up the pace\n[03:34.54] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Killer Kuts\n  duration_ms: 217000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)'\n  start_ms: 640\n  end_ms: 26480\n- text: '\"Nigga!\"'\n  start_ms: 26480\n  end_ms: 27520\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 27520\n  end_ms: 29850\n- text: '\"My mic sound nice, check one\"'\n  start_ms: 29850\n  end_ms: 32260\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 32260\n  end_ms: 34810\n- text: '\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)'\n  start_ms: 34810\n  end_ms: 37460\n- text: '[Kool G. Rap]'\n  start_ms: 37460\n  end_ms: 37750\n- text: Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  start_ms: 37750\n  end_ms: 39030\n- text: Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  start_ms: 39030\n  end_ms: 40380\n- text: Your girl got her skins boned\n  start_ms: 40380\n  end_ms: 41740\n- text: I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  start_ms: 41740\n  end_ms: 42990\n- text: It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  start_ms: 42990\n  end_ms: 45020\n- text: Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  start_ms: 45020\n  end_ms: 47540\n- text: Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  start_ms: 47540\n  end_ms: 49980\n- text: '? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners'\n  start_ms: 49980\n  end_ms: 52450\n- text: I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  start_ms: 52450\n  end_ms: 55330\n- text: The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  start_ms: 55330\n  end_ms: 57730\n- text: Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  start_ms: 57730\n  end_ms: 60780\n- text: Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  start_ms: 60780\n  end_ms: 62750\n- text: I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  start_ms: 62750\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67270\n- text: Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  start_ms: 67270\n  end_ms: 70320\n- text: Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  start_ms: 70320\n  end_ms: 72310\n- text: I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  start_ms: 72310\n  end_ms: 74310\n- text: Or played like Jeff to the left\n  start_ms: 74310\n  end_ms: 75640\n- text: And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  start_ms: 75640\n  end_ms: 77260\n- text: You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  start_ms: 77260\n  end_ms: 80120\n- text: I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  start_ms: 80120\n  end_ms: 82820\n- text: Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  start_ms: 82820\n  end_ms: 85230\n- text: Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  start_ms: 85230\n  end_ms: 87610\n- text: I play you like ping-pong\n  start_ms: 87610\n  end_ms: 88970\n- text: You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  start_ms: 88970\n  end_ms: 90420\n- text: I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  start_ms: 90420\n  end_ms: 92930\n- text: Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  start_ms: 92930\n  end_ms: 95630\n- text: Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  start_ms: 95630\n  end_ms: 98480\n- text: You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  start_ms: 98480\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103690\n- text: Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  start_ms: 103690\n  end_ms: 105840\n- text: You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  start_ms: 105840\n  end_ms: 108190\n- text: Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  start_ms: 108190\n  end_ms: 110770\n- text: Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  start_ms: 110770\n  end_ms: 113480\n- text: You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  start_ms: 113480\n  end_ms: 115980\n- text: And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  start_ms: 115980\n  end_ms: 118000\n- text: Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  start_ms: 118000\n  end_ms: 121030\n- text: My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  start_ms: 121030\n  end_ms: 123270\n- text: Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n  start_ms: 123270\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: '\"My mic sound nice, check two\"'\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 130620\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 130620\n  end_ms: 133450\n- text: '\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)'\n  start_ms: 133450\n  end_ms: 134520\n- text: You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  start_ms: 134520\n  end_ms: 139270\n- text: My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  start_ms: 139270\n  end_ms: 140810\n- text: Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  start_ms: 140810\n  end_ms: 143160\n- text: Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  start_ms: 143160\n  end_ms: 144380\n- text: Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  start_ms: 144380\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148390\n- text: Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  start_ms: 148390\n  end_ms: 151950\n- text: Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  start_ms: 151950\n  end_ms: 153560\n- text: You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  start_ms: 153560\n  end_ms: 156010\n- text: It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  start_ms: 156010\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 160570\n- text: Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  start_ms: 160570\n  end_ms: 164190\n- text: Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  start_ms: 164190\n  end_ms: 166910\n- text: That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  start_ms: 166910\n  end_ms: 168900\n- text: So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  start_ms: 168900\n  end_ms: 172320\n- text: HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  start_ms: 172320\n  end_ms: 174090\n- text: Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  start_ms: 174090\n  end_ms: 176960\n- text: Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 176960\n  end_ms: 179220\n- text: Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  start_ms: 179220\n  end_ms: 181330\n- text: So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  start_ms: 181330\n  end_ms: 184150\n- text: Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  start_ms: 184150\n  end_ms: 186700\n- text: Red light, green light, one two three\n  start_ms: 186700\n  end_ms: 189610\n- text: Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  start_ms: 189610\n  end_ms: 191740\n- text: '''Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast'\n  start_ms: 191740\n  end_ms: 194400\n- text: Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  start_ms: 194400\n  end_ms: 196440\n- text: Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  start_ms: 196440\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 202170\n- text: To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  start_ms: 202170\n  end_ms: 203910\n- text: Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  start_ms: 203910\n  end_ms: 206730\n- text: See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  start_ms: 206730\n  end_ms: 209620\n- text: Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  start_ms: 209620\n  end_ms: 211930\n- text: I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  start_ms: 211930\n  end_ms: 213510\n- text: Pick up the pace\n  start_ms: 213510\n  end_ms: 214540\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 214540\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  you're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  that's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  so here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  to ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":34483303,"name":"Letters","trackName":"Letters","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live & Let Die","duration":222.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n[Kool G. Rap]\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\ndead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nor played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nyou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nputtin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nIt ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nthat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nturnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nso here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nto ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.64] \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n[00:26.48] \"Nigga!\"\n[00:27.52] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[00:29.85] \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n[00:32.26] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[00:34.81] \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n[00:37.46] [Kool G. Rap]\n[00:37.75] Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n[00:39.03] Got a body harder than Flintstone\n[00:40.38] Your girl got her skins boned\n[00:41.74] I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n[00:42.99] It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n[00:45.02] Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n[00:47.54] Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n[00:49.98] ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n[00:52.45] I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n[00:55.33] The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n[00:57.73] Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n[01:00.78] Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n[01:02.75] I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n[01:05.05] You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n[01:07.27] Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n[01:10.32] Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n[01:12.31] I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n[01:14.31] Or played like Jeff to the left\n[01:15.64] And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n[01:17.26] You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n[01:20.12] I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n[01:22.82] Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n[01:25.23] Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n[01:27.61] I play you like ping-pong\n[01:28.97] You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n[01:30.42] I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n[01:32.93] Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n[01:35.63] Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n[01:38.48] You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n[01:40.55] I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n[01:43.69] Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n[01:45.84] You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n[01:48.19] Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n[01:50.77] Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n[01:53.48] You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n[01:55.98] And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n[01:58.00] Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n[02:01.03] My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n[02:03.27] Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n[02:05.66] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[02:08.96] \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n[02:10.62] \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n[02:13.45] \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n[02:14.52] You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n[02:19.27] My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n[02:20.81] Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n[02:23.16] Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n[02:24.38] Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n[02:25.83] You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n[02:28.39] Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n[02:31.95] Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n[02:33.56] You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n[02:36.01] It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n[02:38.78] Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n[02:40.57] Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n[02:44.19] Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n[02:46.91] That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n[02:48.90] So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n[02:52.32] HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n[02:54.09] Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n[02:56.96] Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n[02:59.22] Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n[03:01.33] So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n[03:04.15] Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n[03:06.70] Red light, green light, one two three\n[03:09.61] Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n[03:11.74] 'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n[03:14.40] Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n[03:16.44] Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n[03:18.92] Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n[03:22.17] To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n[03:23.91] Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n[03:26.73] See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n[03:29.62] Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n[03:31.93] I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n[03:33.51] Pick up the pace\n[03:34.54] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live & Let Die\n  duration_ms: 222000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)'\n  start_ms: 640\n  end_ms: 26480\n- text: '\"Nigga!\"'\n  start_ms: 26480\n  end_ms: 27520\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 27520\n  end_ms: 29850\n- text: '\"My mic sound nice, check one\"'\n  start_ms: 29850\n  end_ms: 32260\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 32260\n  end_ms: 34810\n- text: '\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)'\n  start_ms: 34810\n  end_ms: 37460\n- text: '[Kool G. Rap]'\n  start_ms: 37460\n  end_ms: 37750\n- text: Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  start_ms: 37750\n  end_ms: 39030\n- text: Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  start_ms: 39030\n  end_ms: 40380\n- text: Your girl got her skins boned\n  start_ms: 40380\n  end_ms: 41740\n- text: I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  start_ms: 41740\n  end_ms: 42990\n- text: It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  start_ms: 42990\n  end_ms: 45020\n- text: Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  start_ms: 45020\n  end_ms: 47540\n- text: Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  start_ms: 47540\n  end_ms: 49980\n- text: '? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners'\n  start_ms: 49980\n  end_ms: 52450\n- text: I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  start_ms: 52450\n  end_ms: 55330\n- text: The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  start_ms: 55330\n  end_ms: 57730\n- text: Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  start_ms: 57730\n  end_ms: 60780\n- text: Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  start_ms: 60780\n  end_ms: 62750\n- text: I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  start_ms: 62750\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67270\n- text: Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  start_ms: 67270\n  end_ms: 70320\n- text: Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  start_ms: 70320\n  end_ms: 72310\n- text: I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  start_ms: 72310\n  end_ms: 74310\n- text: Or played like Jeff to the left\n  start_ms: 74310\n  end_ms: 75640\n- text: And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  start_ms: 75640\n  end_ms: 77260\n- text: You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  start_ms: 77260\n  end_ms: 80120\n- text: I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  start_ms: 80120\n  end_ms: 82820\n- text: Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  start_ms: 82820\n  end_ms: 85230\n- text: Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  start_ms: 85230\n  end_ms: 87610\n- text: I play you like ping-pong\n  start_ms: 87610\n  end_ms: 88970\n- text: You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  start_ms: 88970\n  end_ms: 90420\n- text: I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  start_ms: 90420\n  end_ms: 92930\n- text: Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  start_ms: 92930\n  end_ms: 95630\n- text: Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  start_ms: 95630\n  end_ms: 98480\n- text: You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  start_ms: 98480\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103690\n- text: Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  start_ms: 103690\n  end_ms: 105840\n- text: You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  start_ms: 105840\n  end_ms: 108190\n- text: Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  start_ms: 108190\n  end_ms: 110770\n- text: Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  start_ms: 110770\n  end_ms: 113480\n- text: You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  start_ms: 113480\n  end_ms: 115980\n- text: And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  start_ms: 115980\n  end_ms: 118000\n- text: Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  start_ms: 118000\n  end_ms: 121030\n- text: My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  start_ms: 121030\n  end_ms: 123270\n- text: Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n  start_ms: 123270\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128960\n- text: '\"My mic sound nice, check two\"'\n  start_ms: 128960\n  end_ms: 130620\n- text: '\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"'\n  start_ms: 130620\n  end_ms: 133450\n- text: '\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)'\n  start_ms: 133450\n  end_ms: 134520\n- text: You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  start_ms: 134520\n  end_ms: 139270\n- text: My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  start_ms: 139270\n  end_ms: 140810\n- text: Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  start_ms: 140810\n  end_ms: 143160\n- text: Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  start_ms: 143160\n  end_ms: 144380\n- text: Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  start_ms: 144380\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148390\n- text: Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  start_ms: 148390\n  end_ms: 151950\n- text: Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  start_ms: 151950\n  end_ms: 153560\n- text: You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  start_ms: 153560\n  end_ms: 156010\n- text: It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  start_ms: 156010\n  end_ms: 158780\n- text: Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  start_ms: 158780\n  end_ms: 160570\n- text: Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  start_ms: 160570\n  end_ms: 164190\n- text: Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  start_ms: 164190\n  end_ms: 166910\n- text: That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  start_ms: 166910\n  end_ms: 168900\n- text: So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  start_ms: 168900\n  end_ms: 172320\n- text: HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  start_ms: 172320\n  end_ms: 174090\n- text: Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  start_ms: 174090\n  end_ms: 176960\n- text: Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 176960\n  end_ms: 179220\n- text: Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  start_ms: 179220\n  end_ms: 181330\n- text: So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  start_ms: 181330\n  end_ms: 184150\n- text: Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  start_ms: 184150\n  end_ms: 186700\n- text: Red light, green light, one two three\n  start_ms: 186700\n  end_ms: 189610\n- text: Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  start_ms: 189610\n  end_ms: 191740\n- text: '''Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast'\n  start_ms: 191740\n  end_ms: 194400\n- text: Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  start_ms: 194400\n  end_ms: 196440\n- text: Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  start_ms: 196440\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 202170\n- text: To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  start_ms: 202170\n  end_ms: 203910\n- text: Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  start_ms: 203910\n  end_ms: 206730\n- text: See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  start_ms: 206730\n  end_ms: 209620\n- text: Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  start_ms: 209620\n  end_ms: 211930\n- text: I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  start_ms: 211930\n  end_ms: 213510\n- text: Pick up the pace\n  start_ms: 213510\n  end_ms: 214540\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 214540\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  you're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  that's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  so here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  to ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":25564072,"name":"Letters","trackName":"Letters","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":224.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n[Kool G. Rap]\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\nDead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nOr played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nYou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nPuttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nIt ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nThat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nTurnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nSo here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nTo ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 224000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  Or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":25602712,"name":"Letters","trackName":"Letters","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":222.126667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n[Kool G. Rap]\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\nDead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nOr played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nYou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nPuttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nIt ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nThat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nTurnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nSo here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nTo ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 222127\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\" (2X)\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  Or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  You're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  It ain't 20/20 money silly bunny your funny\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  That's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  Turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'Fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  To ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":38246846,"name":"Letters (Edited Version)","trackName":"Letters (Edited Version)","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die (Deluxe Version)","duration":202.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\"\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\ndead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nor played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nyou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nputtin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nthat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nturnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nso here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nto ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters (Edited Version)\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 202000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\"\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  you're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  that's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  so here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  to ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":31816377,"name":"Letters (Clean Edit Version)","trackName":"Letters (Clean Edit Version)","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live And Let Die","duration":199.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\"\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\ndead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nor played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nyou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nputtin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nthat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nturnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nso here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nto ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters (Clean Edit Version)\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live And Let Die\n  duration_ms: 199000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\"\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  you're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  that's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  so here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  to ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"},{"id":17938529,"name":"Letters (Clean Edit Version)","trackName":"Letters (Clean Edit Version)","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live And Let Die","duration":202.213333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"What are you going to do?\"\n\"Nigga!\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nRougher than Gotti, in tone\nGot a body harder than Flintstone\nYour girl got her skins boned\nI'm diggin her down with my skintone\nIt's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\nDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\nListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\nI don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\nThe wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\nGot that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\ndead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\nI don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\nYou wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\nLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\nWait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\nI gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\nor played like Jeff to the left\nAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\nYou dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\nI don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\nBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\nHell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\nI play you like ping-pong\nYou swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\nI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\nBing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\nGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\nyou're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\nI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\nWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\nYou name your best I'll say, who, like owls\nPass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\nBring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\nYou ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\nAnd I don't wanna hear from this queer\nCause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\nMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\nCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n\"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n\"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\nYou no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\nMy lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\nBack, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\nSome pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\nFinger popped, the better the batter or flipper\nYou're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\nputtin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\nDead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\nYou wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\nYour ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\nRetire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\nSome of you wacky rappers just play anyway\nthat's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\nSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\nHEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\nPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\nturnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\nInner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\nso here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\nCross at the green not in between or get hit G\nRed light, green light, one two three\nOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\nEverytime I put out my records and tapes\nMotherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\nGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\nto ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\nDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\nSee niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\nBass in your face, stingin like mace\nI'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\nPick up the pace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Letters (Clean Edit Version)\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live And Let Die\n  duration_ms: 202213\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"What are you going to do?\"\n  \"Nigga!\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check one\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"Sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  Rougher than Gotti, in tone\n  Got a body harder than Flintstone\n  Your girl got her skins boned\n  I'm diggin her down with my skintone\n  It's Brown-er than Bobby cause humpin is my hobby\n  Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan\n  Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney\n  ? I break, bang zoom, like Honeymooners\n  I don't want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers\n  The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper\n  Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go\n  dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe\n  I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck\n  You wanna pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check\n  Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red\n  Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?\n  I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed\n  or played like Jeff to the left\n  And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit\n  You dipstics, even Miss kiss, but no lipstick\n  I don't run a style but a mile to bust a child\n  Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle\n  Hell, I'm ringin bells with a ding-dong\n  I play you like ping-pong\n  You swingin on my ding-a-long King Kong\n  I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit\n  Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet rapid\n  Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe\n  you're old as Grady, still in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti\n  I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks\n  Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop\n  You name your best I'll say, who, like owls\n  Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his vowels\n  Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in em\n  You ain't gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum\n  And I don't wanna hear from this queer\n  Cause one of these niggaz just doesn't belong here\n  My rhymes are like the nine millimeter Beretta\n  Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better\n\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"My mic sound nice, check two\"\n  \"The K the double-O the L the G-R-A-P letters\"\n  \"sound nice\" (cut and scratched)\n\n  You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy\n  My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury Doughboy\n  Back, I'm packin em up like Jack the Ripper\n  Some pally'll I'm pullin the zipper\n  Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper\n  You're out of date, you must be the Late Show, I hate those\n  puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get Maaco\n  Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision\n  You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision\n  Your ass'll get smashed just like a crash test dummy\n  Retire, an MC that Oscar Meyer could take\n  Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway\n  that's B-O-L-O-G-N-A\n  So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt\n  HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's Fatter than Albert\n  Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups\n  turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss Miss\n  Inner city, actin like bitties, you're pussy\n  so here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoe's titties\n  Cross at the green not in between or get hit G\n  Red light, green light, one two three\n  Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass\n  'fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast\n  Everytime I put out my records and tapes\n  Motherfuckers go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes\n  Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets\n  to ride the dick and sit down it like a Greyhound\n  Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers\n  See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla Guerillas\n  Bass in your face, stingin like mace\n  I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like waist\n  Pick up the pace\n"}]