[{"id":7692941,"name":"Live and Let Die","trackName":"Live and Let Die","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":316.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Late last night two undercover police officers\nWere found brutally murdered in a fort greene\nApartment building in brooklyn new york.\nAt this time police have no suspects.\nNow to the weather but first.\nG tell em what time it is!\"\n\n[Kool g. rap]\nI got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\nNo joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\nCause i grew up in the fast line\nSee my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\nNow i'm able to leave the cradle\nI don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\nSittin right beside a pistol\nAnd i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\nWhile he was countin the green\nI seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\nPeople was too afraid to stick him up\nBecause he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\nWhen i reached ten years old\nI never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\nCause now pops was on his feet\nAnd to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\nAnd if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\nBecause he just got your death, put on a contract\nAnother sucker to rub\nEven my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\nAnd many cops dropped dead\nI seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\nCause it's hard to get by\nAnd that's why, when you're young in the streets\nYou gotta live and let die\n\nSome say this ain't the life to choose\nRage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\nBut i just wanna get paid off\nCause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\nSome people say, sellin weight, is a death date\nBut i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\nI ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\nCause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\nPolice are right on my heels\nBut i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\nThey can't stop me cause i'm proper\nAnd if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\nI broke a lot of punks ribs\nDumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\nBecause a brother ain't fakin it\nIf there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\nI wish a brother would flex\nI spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\nThat's how i'm livin in the street\nYou either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\nI'm sendin punks six feet deep\nAnd gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\nYou wanna stop what i supply\nAiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\nPolice, police! everybody down, everybody down!\nDon't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\nHey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\nLook, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\nWhat's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\nIt's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\nGet the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\nYou gotta live and let die *explosion*\nForget all that bullshit about savin the soul\nSome chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\nSo i'm out to make a killin\nAnd all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\nI got a rep for mass murder\nIf you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\nI got the .38 long\nBut a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\nAnd if you try to oppose this\nNext time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\nIt ain't about a fair fight\nBecause i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\nAnother punk bites the dust\nCause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\nThe broke life i ain't missin\nBecause now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\nAnd if i'm sellin you ki's\nJust put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\nAnd while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\nI pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\nI put a slug in your face\nThen i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\nAnother punk had to fry\nI don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n\"Earlier this morning, five cops were killed\nAnd six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\nPolice have no leads. for any information,\nPlease call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\nNow back to you rob.\"\n\n\"A forty-nine year old unidentified male\nWent berzerk last night, openly firing\nWith a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\nDowntown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\nIncluding three children and four others\nSuffered serious injuries. police have\nA suspect in custody but are not releasing\nAny information until they complete their\nInvestigation.\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Live and Let Die\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 316000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"Late last night two undercover police officers\n  Were found brutally murdered in a fort greene\n  Apartment building in brooklyn new york.\n  At this time police have no suspects.\n  Now to the weather but first.\n  G tell em what time it is!\"\n\n  [Kool g. rap]\n  I got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\n  No joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\n  Cause i grew up in the fast line\n  See my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\n  Now i'm able to leave the cradle\n  I don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\n  Sittin right beside a pistol\n  And i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\n  While he was countin the green\n  I seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\n  People was too afraid to stick him up\n  Because he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\n  When i reached ten years old\n  I never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\n  Cause now pops was on his feet\n  And to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\n  And if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\n  Because he just got your death, put on a contract\n  Another sucker to rub\n  Even my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\n  And many cops dropped dead\n  I seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\n  Cause it's hard to get by\n  And that's why, when you're young in the streets\n  You gotta live and let die\n\n  Some say this ain't the life to choose\n  Rage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\n  But i just wanna get paid off\n  Cause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\n  Some people say, sellin weight, is a death date\n  But i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\n  I ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\n  Cause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\n  Police are right on my heels\n  But i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\n  They can't stop me cause i'm proper\n  And if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\n  I broke a lot of punks ribs\n  Dumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\n  Because a brother ain't fakin it\n  If there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\n  I wish a brother would flex\n  I spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\n  That's how i'm livin in the street\n  You either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\n  I'm sendin punks six feet deep\n  And gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\n  You wanna stop what i supply\n  Aiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\n  Police, police! everybody down, everybody down!\n  Don't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\n  Hey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\n  Look, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\n  What's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\n  It's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\n  Get the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\n  You gotta live and let die *explosion*\n  Forget all that bullshit about savin the soul\n  Some chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\n  So i'm out to make a killin\n  And all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\n  I got a rep for mass murder\n  If you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\n  I got the .38 long\n  But a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\n  And if you try to oppose this\n  Next time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\n  It ain't about a fair fight\n  Because i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\n  Another punk bites the dust\n  Cause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\n  The broke life i ain't missin\n  Because now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\n  And if i'm sellin you ki's\n  Just put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\n  And while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\n  I pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\n  I put a slug in your face\n  Then i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\n  Another punk had to fry\n  I don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n  \"Earlier this morning, five cops were killed\n  And six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\n  Police have no leads. for any information,\n  Please call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\n  Now back to you rob.\"\n\n  \"A forty-nine year old unidentified male\n  Went berzerk last night, openly firing\n  With a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\n  Downtown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\n  Including three children and four others\n  Suffered serious injuries. police have\n  A suspect in custody but are not releasing\n  Any information until they complete their\n  Investigation.\"\n"},{"id":19015737,"name":"Live and Let Die","trackName":"Live and Let Die","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":318.492375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Late last night two undercover police officers\nWere found brutally murdered in a fort greene\nApartment building in brooklyn new york.\nAt this time police have no suspects.\nNow to the weather but first.\nG tell em what time it is!\"\n\n[Kool g. rap]\nI got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\nNo joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\nCause i grew up in the fast line\nSee my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\nNow i'm able to leave the cradle\nI don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\nSittin right beside a pistol\nAnd i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\nWhile he was countin the green\nI seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\nPeople was too afraid to stick him up\nBecause he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\nWhen i reached ten years old\nI never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\nCause now pops was on his feet\nAnd to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\nAnd if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\nBecause he just got your death, put on a contract\nAnother sucker to rub\nEven my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\nAnd many cops dropped dead\nI seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\nCause it's hard to get by\nAnd that's why, when you're young in the streets\nYou gotta live and let die\n\nSome say this ain't the life to choose\nRage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\nBut i just wanna get paid off\nCause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\nSome people say, sellin weight, is a death date\nBut i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\nI ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\nCause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\nPolice are right on my heels\nBut i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\nThey can't stop me cause i'm proper\nAnd if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\nI broke a lot of punks ribs\nDumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\nBecause a brother ain't fakin it\nIf there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\nI wish a brother would flex\nI spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\nThat's how i'm livin in the street\nYou either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\nI'm sendin punks six feet deep\nAnd gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\nYou wanna stop what i supply\nAiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\nPolice, police! everybody down, everybody down!\nDon't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\nHey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\nLook, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\nWhat's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\nIt's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\nGet the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\nYou gotta live and let die *explosion*\nForget all that bullshit about savin the soul\nSome chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\nSo i'm out to make a killin\nAnd all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\nI got a rep for mass murder\nIf you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\nI got the .38 long\nBut a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\nAnd if you try to oppose this\nNext time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\nIt ain't about a fair fight\nBecause i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\nAnother punk bites the dust\nCause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\nThe broke life i ain't missin\nBecause now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\nAnd if i'm sellin you ki's\nJust put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\nAnd while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\nI pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\nI put a slug in your face\nThen i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\nAnother punk had to fry\nI don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n\"Earlier this morning, five cops were killed\nAnd six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\nPolice have no leads. for any information,\nPlease call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\nNow back to you rob.\"\n\n\"A forty-nine year old unidentified male\nWent berzerk last night, openly firing\nWith a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\nDowntown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\nIncluding three children and four others\nSuffered serious injuries. police have\nA suspect in custody but are not releasing\nAny information until they complete their\nInvestigation.\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Live and Let Die\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 318492\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"Late last night two undercover police officers\n  Were found brutally murdered in a fort greene\n  Apartment building in brooklyn new york.\n  At this time police have no suspects.\n  Now to the weather but first.\n  G tell em what time it is!\"\n\n  [Kool g. rap]\n  I got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\n  No joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\n  Cause i grew up in the fast line\n  See my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\n  Now i'm able to leave the cradle\n  I don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\n  Sittin right beside a pistol\n  And i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\n  While he was countin the green\n  I seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\n  People was too afraid to stick him up\n  Because he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\n  When i reached ten years old\n  I never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\n  Cause now pops was on his feet\n  And to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\n  And if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\n  Because he just got your death, put on a contract\n  Another sucker to rub\n  Even my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\n  And many cops dropped dead\n  I seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\n  Cause it's hard to get by\n  And that's why, when you're young in the streets\n  You gotta live and let die\n\n  Some say this ain't the life to choose\n  Rage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\n  But i just wanna get paid off\n  Cause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\n  Some people say, sellin weight, is a death date\n  But i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\n  I ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\n  Cause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\n  Police are right on my heels\n  But i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\n  They can't stop me cause i'm proper\n  And if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\n  I broke a lot of punks ribs\n  Dumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\n  Because a brother ain't fakin it\n  If there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\n  I wish a brother would flex\n  I spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\n  That's how i'm livin in the street\n  You either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\n  I'm sendin punks six feet deep\n  And gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\n  You wanna stop what i supply\n  Aiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\n  Police, police! everybody down, everybody down!\n  Don't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\n  Hey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\n  Look, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\n  What's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\n  It's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\n  Get the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\n  You gotta live and let die *explosion*\n  Forget all that bullshit about savin the soul\n  Some chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\n  So i'm out to make a killin\n  And all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\n  I got a rep for mass murder\n  If you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\n  I got the .38 long\n  But a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\n  And if you try to oppose this\n  Next time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\n  It ain't about a fair fight\n  Because i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\n  Another punk bites the dust\n  Cause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\n  The broke life i ain't missin\n  Because now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\n  And if i'm sellin you ki's\n  Just put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\n  And while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\n  I pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\n  I put a slug in your face\n  Then i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\n  Another punk had to fry\n  I don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n  \"Earlier this morning, five cops were killed\n  And six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\n  Police have no leads. for any information,\n  Please call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\n  Now back to you rob.\"\n\n  \"A forty-nine year old unidentified male\n  Went berzerk last night, openly firing\n  With a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\n  Downtown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\n  Including three children and four others\n  Suffered serious injuries. police have\n  A suspect in custody but are not releasing\n  Any information until they complete their\n  Investigation.\"\n"},{"id":29527740,"name":"03 - Live And Let Die","trackName":"03 - Live And Let Die","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live And Let Die","duration":316.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"late last night two undercover police officers\nWere found brutally murdered in a fort greene\nApartment building in brooklyn new york.\nAt this time police have no suspects.\nNow to the weather but first.\nG tell em what time it is!\"\n\n[kool g. rap]\nI got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\nNo joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\nCause i grew up in the fast line\nSee my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\nNow i'm able to leave the cradle\nI don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\nSittin right beside a pistol\nAnd i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\nWhile he was countin the green\nI seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\nPeople was too afraid to stick him up\nBecause he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\nWhen i reached ten years old\nI never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\nCause now pops was on his feet\nAnd to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\nAnd if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\nBecause he just got your death, put on a contract\nAnother sucker to rub\nEven my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\nAnd many cops dropped dead\nI seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\nCause it's hard to get by\nAnd that's why, when you're young in the streets\nYou gotta live and let die\n\nSome say this ain't the life to choose\nRage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\nBut i just wanna get paid off\nCause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\nSome people say, sellin weight, is a death date\nBut i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\nI ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\nCause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\nPolice are right on my heels\nBut i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\nThey can't stop me cause i'm proper\nAnd if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\nI broke a lot of punks ribs\nDumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\nBecause a brother ain't fakin it\nIf there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\nI wish a brother would flex\nI spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\nThat's how i'm livin in the street\nYou either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\nI'm sendin punks six feet deep\nAnd gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\nYou wanna stop what i supply\nAiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\nPolice, police! everybody down, everybody down!\nDon't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\nHey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\nLook, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\nWhat's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\nIt's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\nGet the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\nYou gotta live and let die *explosion*\nForget all that bullshit about savin the soul\nSome chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\nSo i'm out to make a killin\nAnd all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\nI got a rep for mass murder\nIf you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\nI got the .38 long\nBut a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\nAnd if you try to oppose this\nNext time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\nIt ain't about a fair fight\nBecause i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\nAnother punk bites the dust\nCause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\nThe broke life i ain't missin\nBecause now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\nAnd if i'm sellin you ki's\nJust put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\nAnd while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\nI pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\nI put a slug in your face\nThen i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\nAnother punk had to fry\nI don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n\"earlier this morning, five cops were killed\nAnd six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\nPolice have no leads. for any information,\nPlease call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\nNow back to you rob.\"\n\n\"a forty-nine year old unidentified male\nWent berzerk last night, openly firing\nWith a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\nDowntown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\nIncluding three children and four others\nSuffered serious injuries. police have\nA suspect in custody but are not releasing\nAny information until they complete their\nInvestigation.\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 03 - Live And Let Die\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live And Let Die\n  duration_ms: 316000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"late last night two undercover police officers\n  Were found brutally murdered in a fort greene\n  Apartment building in brooklyn new york.\n  At this time police have no suspects.\n  Now to the weather but first.\n  G tell em what time it is!\"\n\n  [kool g. rap]\n  I got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\n  No joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\n  Cause i grew up in the fast line\n  See my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\n  Now i'm able to leave the cradle\n  I don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\n  Sittin right beside a pistol\n  And i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\n  While he was countin the green\n  I seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\n  People was too afraid to stick him up\n  Because he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\n  When i reached ten years old\n  I never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\n  Cause now pops was on his feet\n  And to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\n  And if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\n  Because he just got your death, put on a contract\n  Another sucker to rub\n  Even my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\n  And many cops dropped dead\n  I seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\n  Cause it's hard to get by\n  And that's why, when you're young in the streets\n  You gotta live and let die\n\n  Some say this ain't the life to choose\n  Rage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\n  But i just wanna get paid off\n  Cause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\n  Some people say, sellin weight, is a death date\n  But i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\n  I ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\n  Cause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\n  Police are right on my heels\n  But i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\n  They can't stop me cause i'm proper\n  And if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\n  I broke a lot of punks ribs\n  Dumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\n  Because a brother ain't fakin it\n  If there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\n  I wish a brother would flex\n  I spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\n  That's how i'm livin in the street\n  You either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\n  I'm sendin punks six feet deep\n  And gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\n  You wanna stop what i supply\n  Aiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\n  Police, police! everybody down, everybody down!\n  Don't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\n  Hey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\n  Look, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\n  What's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\n  It's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\n  Get the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\n  You gotta live and let die *explosion*\n  Forget all that bullshit about savin the soul\n  Some chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\n  So i'm out to make a killin\n  And all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\n  I got a rep for mass murder\n  If you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\n  I got the .38 long\n  But a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\n  And if you try to oppose this\n  Next time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\n  It ain't about a fair fight\n  Because i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\n  Another punk bites the dust\n  Cause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\n  The broke life i ain't missin\n  Because now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\n  And if i'm sellin you ki's\n  Just put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\n  And while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\n  I pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\n  I put a slug in your face\n  Then i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\n  Another punk had to fry\n  I don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n  \"earlier this morning, five cops were killed\n  And six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\n  Police have no leads. for any information,\n  Please call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\n  Now back to you rob.\"\n\n  \"a forty-nine year old unidentified male\n  Went berzerk last night, openly firing\n  With a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\n  Downtown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\n  Including three children and four others\n  Suffered serious injuries. police have\n  A suspect in custody but are not releasing\n  Any information until they complete their\n  Investigation.\"\n"},{"id":14488933,"name":"Live and Let Die","trackName":"Live and Let Die","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die [US-Import]","duration":315.8745,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"late last night two undercover police officers\nWere found brutally murdered in a fort greene\nApartment building in brooklyn new york.\nAt this time police have no suspects.\nNow to the weather but first.\nG tell em what time it is!\"\n\n[kool g. rap]\nI got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\nNo joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\nCause i grew up in the fast line\nSee my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\nNow i'm able to leave the cradle\nI don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\nSittin right beside a pistol\nAnd i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\nWhile he was countin the green\nI seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\nPeople was too afraid to stick him up\nBecause he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\nWhen i reached ten years old\nI never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\nCause now pops was on his feet\nAnd to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\nAnd if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\nBecause he just got your death, put on a contract\nAnother sucker to rub\nEven my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\nAnd many cops dropped dead\nI seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\nCause it's hard to get by\nAnd that's why, when you're young in the streets\nYou gotta live and let die\n\nSome say this ain't the life to choose\nRage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\nBut i just wanna get paid off\nCause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\nSome people say, sellin weight, is a death date\nBut i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\nI ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\nCause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\nPolice are right on my heels\nBut i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\nThey can't stop me cause i'm proper\nAnd if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\nI broke a lot of punks ribs\nDumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\nBecause a brother ain't fakin it\nIf there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\nI wish a brother would flex\nI spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\nThat's how i'm livin in the street\nYou either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\nI'm sendin punks six feet deep\nAnd gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\nYou wanna stop what i supply\nAiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\nPolice, police! everybody down, everybody down!\nDon't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\nHey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\nLook, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\nWhat's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\nIt's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\nGet the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\nYou gotta live and let die *explosion*\nForget all that bullshit about savin the soul\nSome chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\nSo i'm out to make a killin\nAnd all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\nI got a rep for mass murder\nIf you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\nI got the .38 long\nBut a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\nAnd if you try to oppose this\nNext time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\nIt ain't about a fair fight\nBecause i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\nAnother punk bites the dust\nCause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\nThe broke life i ain't missin\nBecause now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\nAnd if i'm sellin you ki's\nJust put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\nAnd while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\nI pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\nI put a slug in your face\nThen i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\nAnother punk had to fry\nI don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n\"earlier this morning, five cops were killed\nAnd six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\nPolice have no leads. for any information,\nPlease call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\nNow back to you rob.\"\n\n\"a forty-nine year old unidentified male\nWent berzerk last night, openly firing\nWith a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\nDowntown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\nIncluding three children and four others\nSuffered serious injuries. police have\nA suspect in custody but are not releasing\nAny information until they complete their\nInvestigation.\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Live and Let Die\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die [US-Import]\n  duration_ms: 315875\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"late last night two undercover police officers\n  Were found brutally murdered in a fort greene\n  Apartment building in brooklyn new york.\n  At this time police have no suspects.\n  Now to the weather but first.\n  G tell em what time it is!\"\n\n  [kool g. rap]\n  I got a chance to get some money so i'm takin it\n  No joke because this bein broke shit just ain't makin it\n  Cause i grew up in the fast line\n  See my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games\n  Now i'm able to leave the cradle\n  I don't remember the dinners, only the kilos on my kitchen table\n  Sittin right beside a pistol\n  And i'm watchin my pops, pick up bricks made out of crystal\n  While he was countin the green\n  I seen nothin but strainers, containers, scales and rocks on a triple beam\n  People was too afraid to stick him up\n  Because he had the most notorious brothers to come and pick him up\n  When i reached ten years old\n  I never recalled seein any more money and drugs in the household\n  Cause now pops was on his feet\n  And to keep us from gettin hurt he kept his dirt in the street\n  And if he tried to attack, your family's wearin black\n  Because he just got your death, put on a contract\n  Another sucker to rub\n  Even my mother's walkin around packin a .357 snub\n  And many cops dropped dead\n  I seen a man pull out a pistol and blow off an undercover's head\n  Cause it's hard to get by\n  And that's why, when you're young in the streets\n  You gotta live and let die\n\n  Some say this ain't the life to choose\n  Rage is snapped away you get a page in the daily news\n  But i just wanna get paid off\n  Cause if i was workin a regular nine to five i'd get laid off\n  Some people say, sellin weight, is a death date\n  But i can't wait, to set up shop, in the next state\n  I ain't worried bout a brother tryin to take mines\n\n  Cause my plot comes with a hundred shot nine\n  Police are right on my heels\n  But i'm always one step ahead of the punks makin dope deals\n  They can't stop me cause i'm proper\n  And if they ever try to raid they better bring choppers or helicopters\n  I broke a lot of punks ribs\n  Dumpin they bodies in lots, then i ran and shot up the cribs\n  Because a brother ain't fakin it\n  If there's a record for killin the most niggaz then yo i'm breakin it\n  I wish a brother would flex\n  I spray him up and then take all of his money and give his girl sex\n  That's how i'm livin in the street\n  You either give a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat\n  I'm sendin punks six feet deep\n  And gettin money in lumps, cause this ain't twenty-one jump street\n  You wanna stop what i supply\n  Aiyyo, the hell with that, i gotta live and let die\n\n  Police, police! everybody down, everybody down!\n  Don't fucking move, get down! *beep beep*\n  Hey, where is everybody? *beep beep*\n  Look, there's nobody here *beep beep beep*\n  What's that fucking noise? *beep beep beep!*\n  It's a bomb, it's a bomb, let's go\n  Get the fuck out of here! *flatline sound*\n\n  You gotta live and let die *explosion*\n  Forget all that bullshit about savin the soul\n  Some chump'll pump your ass full of bulletholes\n  So i'm out to make a killin\n  And all you suckers are chillin cause i ain't just an ordinary villain\n  I got a rep for mass murder\n  If you look bigger, i just pull the trigger, a female i just hurt her\n  I got the .38 long\n  But a dame can get the same if she's comin out of her mouth wrong\n  And if you try to oppose this\n  Next time you see your mother she'll be covered with roses\n  It ain't about a fair fight\n  Because i only get open for smokin suckers in daylight\n  Another punk bites the dust\n  Cause i just bust blood out your butt like pus\n  The broke life i ain't missin\n  Because now i got a lot, and that's more than a pot to piss in\n\n  And if i'm sellin you ki's\n  Just put the g's on the bed, and then go head and take a freeze\n  And while you're numbin your tongue with the yum yum\n  I pull out a gun, cause i want every last crumb\n  I put a slug in your face\n  Then i waits to start packin the trap back in the suitcase\n  Another punk had to fry\n  I don't want to do it but yo i gotta live and let die\n\n  \"earlier this morning, five cops were killed\n  And six were wounded in a raid gone bad.\n  Police have no leads. for any information,\n  Please call, 1-800-stool-pigeon.\n  Now back to you rob.\"\n\n  \"a forty-nine year old unidentified male\n  Went berzerk last night, openly firing\n  With a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded\n  Downtown resteraunt. 14 people are dead\n  Including three children and four others\n  Suffered serious injuries. police have\n  A suspect in custody but are not releasing\n  Any information until they complete their\n  Investigation.\"\n"},{"id":7692943,"name":"Crime Pays","trackName":"Crime Pays","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":137.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"The umm security we have here today\nNot the open security\nThe ones that that really sittin there\nAnd really think we don't know who they are!\n\n\"Now that's funky\" (4x)\n\n[Kool g. rap]\nCrime don't pay that's what they tell us\nBut that's because the other motherfuckers gettin jealous\n\nBut i'ma tell you this they neighborhood got the goodfellas\nBut they come arrest us for the same shit they sell us\nCause they don't want to see a young black nigga rollin\nInside a nice car, nice kit, without the shit bein stolen\nSo they come and lock a nigga up\nMeanwhile some corrupt, politician nigga is makin bigger bucks\nNiggaz gettin blamed for the crystals; but we don't grow\nThe motherfuckin coke or weed or make the fuckin pistols\nNiggaz ain't tryin to live in poverty\nAnd a black man's lottery's a motherfuckin robbery\nSo yo you gotta make your best\nMake a small investment and then put it to the test (\"i know!\")\nYes, cause the other motherfuckers gettin over\nPolice don't look at a white man strange drivin a range rover\nCarrying shit like it's minerals\nThe big dollar white dollar suit and tie criminals\nEven the government figures\nSellin shit to the motherfuckin columbians and rich niggaz\nCrime isn't time from the brothers\nHey you say it don't pay, it's payin white motherfuckers\nIt all depends on how you do your shit\nCause either learn it quick intelligent and that's it\n(\"i beg your pardon?\") you're well fittin\nFuck workin for a bastard\nI gotta see that money before my ass sees a casket\nGet paid, motherfuck a raise\nCause to all them improper crooked coppers, crime pays\n\n\"Jack you motherfuckers\" (2x)\n\"Wake up and go for what you know.\"\n\"Everybody's got to make a living\"\n\"Boy i'm trying to make me some. money!\"\n\n[Kool g. rap]\nStop, nigga stop, nigga freeze\nBut at the same time, some old rich fuck, is drivin by with twenty ki's\nBecause they came up with a law\nTo keep the rich motherfuckers rich and the poor motherfuckers poor\nWe take the cake you get the crumbs\nStackin up a package of cracks, to sell to blacks in the slums\nGuns are bein sold over the counter\nAnd you wonder why your daughter's head was slaughtered when they found her\nWhy did he have to shoot the bitch\nBut the bitch i mean the witch just had to switch\nTo make the nigga richie rich\nYeah, so i'm throwin you the phrase\nBelieve me when i tell you motherfuckin crime pays","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Crime Pays\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 137000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  The umm security we have here today\n  Not the open security\n  The ones that that really sittin there\n  And really think we don't know who they are!\n\n  \"Now that's funky\" (4x)\n\n  [Kool g. rap]\n  Crime don't pay that's what they tell us\n  But that's because the other motherfuckers gettin jealous\n\n  But i'ma tell you this they neighborhood got the goodfellas\n  But they come arrest us for the same shit they sell us\n  Cause they don't want to see a young black nigga rollin\n  Inside a nice car, nice kit, without the shit bein stolen\n  So they come and lock a nigga up\n  Meanwhile some corrupt, politician nigga is makin bigger bucks\n  Niggaz gettin blamed for the crystals; but we don't grow\n  The motherfuckin coke or weed or make the fuckin pistols\n  Niggaz ain't tryin to live in poverty\n  And a black man's lottery's a motherfuckin robbery\n  So yo you gotta make your best\n  Make a small investment and then put it to the test (\"i know!\")\n  Yes, cause the other motherfuckers gettin over\n  Police don't look at a white man strange drivin a range rover\n  Carrying shit like it's minerals\n  The big dollar white dollar suit and tie criminals\n  Even the government figures\n  Sellin shit to the motherfuckin columbians and rich niggaz\n  Crime isn't time from the brothers\n  Hey you say it don't pay, it's payin white motherfuckers\n  It all depends on how you do your shit\n  Cause either learn it quick intelligent and that's it\n  (\"i beg your pardon?\") you're well fittin\n  Fuck workin for a bastard\n  I gotta see that money before my ass sees a casket\n  Get paid, motherfuck a raise\n  Cause to all them improper crooked coppers, crime pays\n\n  \"Jack you motherfuckers\" (2x)\n  \"Wake up and go for what you know.\"\n  \"Everybody's got to make a living\"\n  \"Boy i'm trying to make me some. money!\"\n\n  [Kool g. rap]\n  Stop, nigga stop, nigga freeze\n  But at the same time, some old rich fuck, is drivin by with twenty ki's\n  Because they came up with a law\n  To keep the rich motherfuckers rich and the poor motherfuckers poor\n  We take the cake you get the crumbs\n  Stackin up a package of cracks, to sell to blacks in the slums\n  Guns are bein sold over the counter\n  And you wonder why your daughter's head was slaughtered when they found her\n  Why did he have to shoot the bitch\n  But the bitch i mean the witch just had to switch\n  To make the nigga richie rich\n  Yeah, so i'm throwin you the phrase\n  Believe me when i tell you motherfuckin crime pays\n"},{"id":7692963,"name":"Straight Jacket","trackName":"Straight Jacket","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":191.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Kool G. Rap]\nHelp me doctor doctor cause I'm seein lots of spots\nI'm thinkin of pink elephants with little polka dots\nI'm tired, crazy tired, but I can not get no sleep\nCause every time I close my eyes I think I'm six feet deep\nI feel I'm goin slow as hell but everything is speedin\nLast night I woke up screamin and my bathroom walls were bleedin\nI thought I fell asleep at work, but then when I awoke\nI was all alone and had my own hands on my throat\nClippings from the newspaper of murders my library\nSometimes I get a urge to walk inside a cemetary\nI looked into a mirror seen a rope around my neck\nI smoked a lot of cigarettes, cause I'm a nervous wreck\nTryin to relax, I ran some water in the tub\nVision somebody slaughtered, then the water turned to blood\nI'm runnin down the hallway tryin to reach an exit door\nThe more and more I run seems like it's further than before\nVoices sometimes tell me what I won't do, what I will do\nVoices in my head right now are tellin me to kill you\nFilled up with anxiety, I went to Lover's Lane\nSeen a couple kissin, then blew out the brother's brain\nI feel the world's against me and the women are so dirty\nI hate women today because my mother used to hurt me\nI think I'm goin crazy Doc no longer can I hack it\nPlease, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n\nA lady picked me up hitchikin, what a big mistake\nSeveral hours later, there's a body by the lake\nWalked into a train station, headed towards the back\nCaught a flashback, and pushed a man right on the track\nI'm in my darkroom inside my house that is deserted\nDevelopin the photo of a hoe that I just murdered\nI took a walk one night because I wanted to get out\nI stepped outside, I paused, and I was back inside my house\nCalled up PLENTY doctors, told em all about my health\nMy phone just plays a dial tone, I'm talkin to myself\nSnap back to reality, at least that's what I thought\nRunnin from the spirits of the bodies I just caught\nI can't escape this hell I'm in, not even in my dreams\nI cover both my ears, because I'm sick of hearin screams\nI been a mental case since I was in the seventh grade\nStabbed another student, licked his blood off of my blade\nI got two personalities inside sometimes they battle\nWhen I look at my picture all I see is scribble scrabble\nI feel I'm really losin it, I need to write to Abby\nThe characters on TV try to reach right out and grab me\nI always hear somebody talkin bout they gonna do me\nBut I listen again and it's those voices talkin to me\nYou heard of shadowboxin? I see mine and then attack it\nPlease, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.68] [Kool G. Rap]\n[00:17.68] Help me doctor doctor cause I'm seein lots of spots\n[00:20.36] I'm thinkin of pink elephants with little polka dots\n[00:23.03] I'm tired, crazy tired, but I can not get no sleep\n[00:26.63] Cause every time I close my eyes I think I'm six feet deep\n[00:28.44] I feel I'm goin slow as hell but everything is speedin\n[00:32.17] Last night I woke up screamin and my bathroom walls were bleedin\n[00:34.85] I thought I fell asleep at work, but then when I awoke\n[00:37.59] I was all alone and had my own hands on my throat\n[00:40.28] Clippings from the newspaper of murders my library\n[00:43.83] Sometimes I get a urge to walk inside a cemetary\n[00:46.56] I looked into a mirror seen a rope around my neck\n[00:49.20] I smoked a lot of cigarettes, cause I'm a nervous wreck\n[00:52.87] Tryin to relax, I ran some water in the tub\n[00:55.58] Vision somebody slaughtered, then the water turned to blood\n[00:58.21] I'm runnin down the hallway tryin to reach an exit door\n[01:01.07] The more and more I run seems like it's further than before\n[01:03.60] Voices sometimes tell me what I won't do, what I will do\n[01:07.36] Voices in my head right now are tellin me to kill you\n[01:10.04] Filled up with anxiety, I went to Lover's Lane\n[01:11.86] Seen a couple kissin, then blew out the brother's brain\n[01:15.47] I feel the world's against me and the women are so dirty\n[01:18.17] I hate women today because my mother used to hurt me\n[01:20.85] I think I'm goin crazy Doc no longer can I hack it\n[01:23.57] Please, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n[01:38.87] A lady picked me up hitchikin, what a big mistake\n[01:41.68] Several hours later, there's a body by the lake\n[01:44.33] Walked into a train station, headed towards the back\n[01:47.03] Caught a flashback, and pushed a man right on the track\n[01:49.78] I'm in my darkroom inside my house that is deserted\n[01:52.46] Developin the photo of a hoe that I just murdered\n[01:56.02] I took a walk one night because I wanted to get out\n[01:58.77] I stepped outside, I paused, and I was back inside my house\n[02:01.42] Called up PLENTY doctors, told em all about my health\n[02:04.16] My phone just plays a dial tone, I'm talkin to myself\n[02:07.70] Snap back to reality, at least that's what I thought\n[02:10.47] Runnin from the spirits of the bodies I just caught\n[02:13.13] I can't escape this hell I'm in, not even in my dreams\n[02:15.96] I cover both my ears, because I'm sick of hearin screams\n[02:19.56] I been a mental case since I was in the seventh grade\n[02:22.21] Stabbed another student, licked his blood off of my blade\n[02:25.00] I got two personalities inside sometimes they battle\n[02:27.63] When I look at my picture all I see is scribble scrabble\n[02:30.32] I feel I'm really losin it, I need to write to Abby\n[02:33.07] The characters on TV try to reach right out and grab me\n[02:36.63] I always hear somebody talkin bout they gonna do me\n[02:40.23] But I listen again and it's those voices talkin to me\n[02:42.04] You heard of shadowboxin? I see mine and then attack it\n[02:44.73] Please, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n[03:09.49] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Straight Jacket\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 191000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '[Kool G. Rap]'\n  start_ms: 3680\n  end_ms: 17680\n- text: Help me doctor doctor cause I'm seein lots of spots\n  start_ms: 17680\n  end_ms: 20360\n- text: I'm thinkin of pink elephants with little polka dots\n  start_ms: 20360\n  end_ms: 23030\n- text: I'm tired, crazy tired, but I can not get no sleep\n  start_ms: 23030\n  end_ms: 26630\n- text: Cause every time I close my eyes I think I'm six feet deep\n  start_ms: 26630\n  end_ms: 28440\n- text: I feel I'm goin slow as hell but everything is speedin\n  start_ms: 28440\n  end_ms: 32170\n- text: Last night I woke up screamin and my bathroom walls were bleedin\n  start_ms: 32170\n  end_ms: 34850\n- text: I thought I fell asleep at work, but then when I awoke\n  start_ms: 34850\n  end_ms: 37590\n- text: I was all alone and had my own hands on my throat\n  start_ms: 37590\n  end_ms: 40280\n- text: Clippings from the newspaper of murders my library\n  start_ms: 40280\n  end_ms: 43830\n- text: Sometimes I get a urge to walk inside a cemetary\n  start_ms: 43830\n  end_ms: 46560\n- text: I looked into a mirror seen a rope around my neck\n  start_ms: 46560\n  end_ms: 49200\n- text: I smoked a lot of cigarettes, cause I'm a nervous wreck\n  start_ms: 49200\n  end_ms: 52870\n- text: Tryin to relax, I ran some water in the tub\n  start_ms: 52870\n  end_ms: 55580\n- text: Vision somebody slaughtered, then the water turned to blood\n  start_ms: 55580\n  end_ms: 58210\n- text: I'm runnin down the hallway tryin to reach an exit door\n  start_ms: 58210\n  end_ms: 61070\n- text: The more and more I run seems like it's further than before\n  start_ms: 61070\n  end_ms: 63600\n- text: Voices sometimes tell me what I won't do, what I will do\n  start_ms: 63600\n  end_ms: 67360\n- text: Voices in my head right now are tellin me to kill you\n  start_ms: 67360\n  end_ms: 70040\n- text: Filled up with anxiety, I went to Lover's Lane\n  start_ms: 70040\n  end_ms: 71860\n- text: Seen a couple kissin, then blew out the brother's brain\n  start_ms: 71860\n  end_ms: 75470\n- text: I feel the world's against me and the women are so dirty\n  start_ms: 75470\n  end_ms: 78170\n- text: I hate women today because my mother used to hurt me\n  start_ms: 78170\n  end_ms: 80850\n- text: I think I'm goin crazy Doc no longer can I hack it\n  start_ms: 80850\n  end_ms: 83570\n- text: Please, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n  start_ms: 83570\n  end_ms: 98870\n- text: A lady picked me up hitchikin, what a big mistake\n  start_ms: 98870\n  end_ms: 101680\n- text: Several hours later, there's a body by the lake\n  start_ms: 101680\n  end_ms: 104330\n- text: Walked into a train station, headed towards the back\n  start_ms: 104330\n  end_ms: 107030\n- text: Caught a flashback, and pushed a man right on the track\n  start_ms: 107030\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: I'm in my darkroom inside my house that is deserted\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112460\n- text: Developin the photo of a hoe that I just murdered\n  start_ms: 112460\n  end_ms: 116020\n- text: I took a walk one night because I wanted to get out\n  start_ms: 116020\n  end_ms: 118770\n- text: I stepped outside, I paused, and I was back inside my house\n  start_ms: 118770\n  end_ms: 121420\n- text: Called up PLENTY doctors, told em all about my health\n  start_ms: 121420\n  end_ms: 124160\n- text: My phone just plays a dial tone, I'm talkin to myself\n  start_ms: 124160\n  end_ms: 127700\n- text: Snap back to reality, at least that's what I thought\n  start_ms: 127700\n  end_ms: 130470\n- text: Runnin from the spirits of the bodies I just caught\n  start_ms: 130470\n  end_ms: 133130\n- text: I can't escape this hell I'm in, not even in my dreams\n  start_ms: 133130\n  end_ms: 135960\n- text: I cover both my ears, because I'm sick of hearin screams\n  start_ms: 135960\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: I been a mental case since I was in the seventh grade\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142210\n- text: Stabbed another student, licked his blood off of my blade\n  start_ms: 142210\n  end_ms: 145000\n- text: I got two personalities inside sometimes they battle\n  start_ms: 145000\n  end_ms: 147630\n- text: When I look at my picture all I see is scribble scrabble\n  start_ms: 147630\n  end_ms: 150320\n- text: I feel I'm really losin it, I need to write to Abby\n  start_ms: 150320\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: The characters on TV try to reach right out and grab me\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 156630\n- text: I always hear somebody talkin bout they gonna do me\n  start_ms: 156630\n  end_ms: 160230\n- text: But I listen again and it's those voices talkin to me\n  start_ms: 160230\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: You heard of shadowboxin? I see mine and then attack it\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 164730\n- text: Please, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n  start_ms: 164730\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 189490\nplain: |-\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Help me doctor doctor cause I'm seein lots of spots\n  I'm thinkin of pink elephants with little polka dots\n  I'm tired, crazy tired, but I can not get no sleep\n  Cause every time I close my eyes I think I'm six feet deep\n  I feel I'm goin slow as hell but everything is speedin\n  Last night I woke up screamin and my bathroom walls were bleedin\n  I thought I fell asleep at work, but then when I awoke\n  I was all alone and had my own hands on my throat\n  Clippings from the newspaper of murders my library\n  Sometimes I get a urge to walk inside a cemetary\n  I looked into a mirror seen a rope around my neck\n  I smoked a lot of cigarettes, cause I'm a nervous wreck\n  Tryin to relax, I ran some water in the tub\n  Vision somebody slaughtered, then the water turned to blood\n  I'm runnin down the hallway tryin to reach an exit door\n  The more and more I run seems like it's further than before\n  Voices sometimes tell me what I won't do, what I will do\n  Voices in my head right now are tellin me to kill you\n  Filled up with anxiety, I went to Lover's Lane\n  Seen a couple kissin, then blew out the brother's brain\n  I feel the world's against me and the women are so dirty\n  I hate women today because my mother used to hurt me\n  I think I'm goin crazy Doc no longer can I hack it\n  Please, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n\n  A lady picked me up hitchikin, what a big mistake\n  Several hours later, there's a body by the lake\n  Walked into a train station, headed towards the back\n  Caught a flashback, and pushed a man right on the track\n  I'm in my darkroom inside my house that is deserted\n  Developin the photo of a hoe that I just murdered\n  I took a walk one night because I wanted to get out\n  I stepped outside, I paused, and I was back inside my house\n  Called up PLENTY doctors, told em all about my health\n  My phone just plays a dial tone, I'm talkin to myself\n  Snap back to reality, at least that's what I thought\n  Runnin from the spirits of the bodies I just caught\n  I can't escape this hell I'm in, not even in my dreams\n  I cover both my ears, because I'm sick of hearin screams\n  I been a mental case since I was in the seventh grade\n  Stabbed another student, licked his blood off of my blade\n  I got two personalities inside sometimes they battle\n  When I look at my picture all I see is scribble scrabble\n  I feel I'm really losin it, I need to write to Abby\n  The characters on TV try to reach right out and grab me\n  I always hear somebody talkin bout they gonna do me\n  But I listen again and it's those voices talkin to me\n  You heard of shadowboxin? I see mine and then attack it\n  Please, doctor please, put me in a straight jacket\n"},{"id":7692948,"name":"Train Robbery","trackName":"Train Robbery","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":253.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Kool G. Rap]\nDown the subway stairs, straight through the turnstyle\nNo smile, but I'm waitin in the station for the 7 to turn it wild\nMe and my three shorties, guzzlin forties\nWe're bout to rob and steal and get real fuckin naughty\nOne carries a three pound, the other a four-fifth\nBoth ready to buck and ain't nuttin to be fucked with\nIt's dark and it's midnight, the police in dead sight\nLook through the fuckin tunnel and I see movin headlights\nFuck it I cock the baretta back and put my hood on\nMy shorties are game, I got the same shit they put on\nImpatiently we're waitin for the doors to open\nGot on the train we're car from car but not too far I started scopin\nStarin at this bitch for a minute\nMy man pulled out the mag, opened the bag and said,\n\"Put all your fuckin money in it!\"\nEven the jewelry on the hands\nHe slapped the bitch up, and she cried,\nAnd begged him not to take her wedding band\nNow everybody's in shock, and I'm walking past\nThe scared ass passengers with the nine millimeter cocked\nLookin for who was next\nAnd sittin by the pole was a old ass man wearin a Rolex\nI took the shit and hit the bastard hard\nRipped his pants clean off his ass and got the Visa and the MasterCard\nMy little man said, \"A-yo check this,\"\nHe pointed at this bitch who looked rich, wearin a long pearl necklace\nWord to God, she got my dick hard, and that was the truth\nSo I drug her ass inside the conductor's booth\nAs the hoe started to shout, I threw her on her knees\nAnd made her freeze and put my dick inside her pretty mouth\nAll of the sudden I just, nutted\nPulled up my pants and zipped up\nShe's on the floor with her mouth flooded\nCame back out with the iron *gun shot*\nThe next motherfucker to move, is dyin!\nThe train came to a stop, and who gets on it\nTo ruin the whole plot, was a motherfuckin cop\nHe fired at me -- I fired back at him\nGod damn, I almost had him\nIn a flash, my little shorty's on his ass\nGot down on the ground, and let the three pound blast\nLead went dead in his chest\nTore him a new asshole, right through his bullshit vest\nBut the pig was still breathin\nI wanted to finish him off, but I said, \"Fukkit, I'm leavin\"\nGrabbed the sack hit the track and started runnin\n\"Ohhh shit! More fuckin cops comin!\"\nSo I stopped and took a shot\nHopin the cop got popped but yo I didn't see nobody drop\nHeaded straight into the exit, and out in the street\nPolice outside like fifty deep\nSo I started to creep but I didn't sleep\nSpotted this bitch pullin up in a Jeep\nHow sweet! \"Now get the fuck out the car!\"\nSlammed the bitch down on the tar, now she needs CPR\nBut I don't give a fuck, I just jetted\nMy man said set it, two more detectives got wetted\nAs we raced down the block\nLettin off a whole lot of shots and didn't stop\nPolice gave us a chase, a blue and white rage\nMy shorty got grazed in the face\nAnother cop tried to let off, I put another clip in my shit\nAnd blew his motherfuckin head off\nStomped my foot on the gas pedal\nSparks are flyin and shit, from the bullets hittin the car metal\nSo now we just runnin\nThe shorties and me G, one of the three gunmen\nSide by side we're on the highway, and lettin off shots\nThe three outlaws, against the cops\nIt's like a fuckin adventure\nAbout four cops got dropped, three motherfuckers got injured\nThe last of the cop cars pressed up\nMy man aimed the joint, the hollow points tore his fuckin vest up\nI put a slug inside the tire\nThey ran into a tall-ass wall, now it's great balls of fire\nSo now we got away clean, yeah\nSmilin like a motherfucker countin the green\nYou can't fuck with the kid\nMy boy started thinkin back on the train\nBout all that shit we did\nLeavin niggaz in poverty\nThree black motherfuckers pulled off a great train robbery\nTook all those motherfuckers ducats\nBut hey, what I can say, life is a bitch so FUCK IT","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Train Robbery\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 253000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Down the subway stairs, straight through the turnstyle\n  No smile, but I'm waitin in the station for the 7 to turn it wild\n  Me and my three shorties, guzzlin forties\n  We're bout to rob and steal and get real fuckin naughty\n  One carries a three pound, the other a four-fifth\n  Both ready to buck and ain't nuttin to be fucked with\n  It's dark and it's midnight, the police in dead sight\n  Look through the fuckin tunnel and I see movin headlights\n  Fuck it I cock the baretta back and put my hood on\n  My shorties are game, I got the same shit they put on\n  Impatiently we're waitin for the doors to open\n  Got on the train we're car from car but not too far I started scopin\n  Starin at this bitch for a minute\n  My man pulled out the mag, opened the bag and said,\n  \"Put all your fuckin money in it!\"\n  Even the jewelry on the hands\n  He slapped the bitch up, and she cried,\n  And begged him not to take her wedding band\n  Now everybody's in shock, and I'm walking past\n  The scared ass passengers with the nine millimeter cocked\n  Lookin for who was next\n  And sittin by the pole was a old ass man wearin a Rolex\n  I took the shit and hit the bastard hard\n  Ripped his pants clean off his ass and got the Visa and the MasterCard\n  My little man said, \"A-yo check this,\"\n  He pointed at this bitch who looked rich, wearin a long pearl necklace\n  Word to God, she got my dick hard, and that was the truth\n  So I drug her ass inside the conductor's booth\n  As the hoe started to shout, I threw her on her knees\n  And made her freeze and put my dick inside her pretty mouth\n  All of the sudden I just, nutted\n  Pulled up my pants and zipped up\n  She's on the floor with her mouth flooded\n  Came back out with the iron *gun shot*\n  The next motherfucker to move, is dyin!\n  The train came to a stop, and who gets on it\n  To ruin the whole plot, was a motherfuckin cop\n  He fired at me -- I fired back at him\n  God damn, I almost had him\n  In a flash, my little shorty's on his ass\n  Got down on the ground, and let the three pound blast\n  Lead went dead in his chest\n  Tore him a new asshole, right through his bullshit vest\n  But the pig was still breathin\n  I wanted to finish him off, but I said, \"Fukkit, I'm leavin\"\n  Grabbed the sack hit the track and started runnin\n  \"Ohhh shit! More fuckin cops comin!\"\n  So I stopped and took a shot\n  Hopin the cop got popped but yo I didn't see nobody drop\n  Headed straight into the exit, and out in the street\n  Police outside like fifty deep\n  So I started to creep but I didn't sleep\n  Spotted this bitch pullin up in a Jeep\n  How sweet! \"Now get the fuck out the car!\"\n  Slammed the bitch down on the tar, now she needs CPR\n  But I don't give a fuck, I just jetted\n  My man said set it, two more detectives got wetted\n  As we raced down the block\n  Lettin off a whole lot of shots and didn't stop\n  Police gave us a chase, a blue and white rage\n  My shorty got grazed in the face\n  Another cop tried to let off, I put another clip in my shit\n  And blew his motherfuckin head off\n  Stomped my foot on the gas pedal\n  Sparks are flyin and shit, from the bullets hittin the car metal\n  So now we just runnin\n  The shorties and me G, one of the three gunmen\n  Side by side we're on the highway, and lettin off shots\n  The three outlaws, against the cops\n  It's like a fuckin adventure\n  About four cops got dropped, three motherfuckers got injured\n  The last of the cop cars pressed up\n  My man aimed the joint, the hollow points tore his fuckin vest up\n  I put a slug inside the tire\n  They ran into a tall-ass wall, now it's great balls of fire\n  So now we got away clean, yeah\n  Smilin like a motherfucker countin the green\n  You can't fuck with the kid\n  My boy started thinkin back on the train\n  Bout all that shit we did\n  Leavin niggaz in poverty\n  Three black motherfuckers pulled off a great train robbery\n  Took all those motherfuckers ducats\n  But hey, what I can say, life is a bitch so FUCK IT\n"},{"id":7692979,"name":"Still Wanted Dead or Alive","trackName":"Still Wanted Dead or Alive","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":204.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"When you're on the run from the police, you got two options\nTurn yourself in. or come out BLASTING!\" *boom*\n\n[Kool G. Rap]\nThe chase ain't over, the battle ain't done yet\nGet your ass out of town before sunset\nBullets you felt got you runnin for help\nYou gettin struck and my nine is STILL tucked under the belt\nI'm wanted dead or alive, but I'm still standin\nJust tell Shannon, got the van with the cannon\nWhen I hit, either the nine or the pound spits\nI even flipped on a mob I was down with\nSo I'm packin a mac at night\nAnd blue and whites are everywhere in a nigga sight\nSo come on, you little pigs, who's the bravest?\nCause I'ma spit on your ass like Larry Davis\nBumpin em off somethin decent\nJump out slow and drop the cocktail bomb in the precinct\nAnd drop ten with the Glock-10 *boom boom boom*\nI made another cop spin\nNow Uncle Sam really wants me\nBut I'ma hit some more spots, then I'm flyin out the country\nIt ain't about runnin off like a sucker\nI dug my own grave out this motherfucker\nSo I gotta hustle and gamble\nBut before I split, believe I leavin shit in shambles\nIt's a long plane ride, but a nigga gotta survive\nI'm still wanted dead or alive\n\nI'm turnin the city morgue to a deli\nWas in the belly of the beast now the beast is in my belly\nI gotta get up more loot\nTime to throw back on the army suits and Timberland boots\nBlast at the niggaz from the East New York scene\nI got my man C with me from Fort Greene\nAl Capone, D Creative G, and peep my man named B\nReady to peel caps like potatoes\nKev and Akinyele's on the lookout\nUp in the spot, niggaz are crooked out and took out\n*Bang* There goes a brain *bang* There goes a liver\nAin't no time, for dumpin niggaz in the river\nI ain't lovin you niggaz no more\n*Vrrrrrrrrrroom* It's time for the chainsaw\nOff with the legs, arms, and head later\nAnd throw the shit down in the incinerator\nThen I'm off with the drugs and ends\nNow it's time to get some motherfuckin revenge\nTo the nigga that stuck me in jail\nI sent his momma's fingers to him in the mail\nCaught up with his ass inside the 10th floor hall\n*Bullets spray* Painted the motherfuckin walls\nNever mind having balls, you niggaz better duck and dive\nI'm still wanted dead or alive\n\nAiyyo Jinx, bust em in they motherfuckin face\n\n\"I pop in my Kool G. Rap and Polo tape\" -> Chuck D\n\nThey was - straight goin out like a gunner\nBecause a nigga's wanted, I'm even hunted by bounty hunters\nBut I'm spittin out bigger lead\nThey got about a half a million dollar reward on a nigga's head\nBut I murdered the whole crew\nI saw they spirits leave they bodies and I shot at them bitches too\nI put the nine to their it's so simple\n*Bang bang* Now that's what I call a Holy Temple\nYou put a nigga to the test\nBut if you fuck with me, then you fuckin with the best\nI'm wettin niggaz and I'm fleein G\nCause Sing-Sing? ain't seein me\nYou gettin zipped up in leather\nCause if your ass leaks once, then your ass leaks forever\nTo the nigga that threatened my life\nWent up to his crib, started wettin his wife\nNigga hidin in a closet\nChecked his ass, and made a motherfuckin deposit\nSucker tried to get live\nYeah, I'm still wanted dead or alive","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Still Wanted Dead or Alive\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 204000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"When you're on the run from the police, you got two options\n  Turn yourself in. or come out BLASTING!\" *boom*\n\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  The chase ain't over, the battle ain't done yet\n  Get your ass out of town before sunset\n  Bullets you felt got you runnin for help\n  You gettin struck and my nine is STILL tucked under the belt\n  I'm wanted dead or alive, but I'm still standin\n  Just tell Shannon, got the van with the cannon\n  When I hit, either the nine or the pound spits\n  I even flipped on a mob I was down with\n  So I'm packin a mac at night\n  And blue and whites are everywhere in a nigga sight\n  So come on, you little pigs, who's the bravest?\n  Cause I'ma spit on your ass like Larry Davis\n  Bumpin em off somethin decent\n  Jump out slow and drop the cocktail bomb in the precinct\n  And drop ten with the Glock-10 *boom boom boom*\n  I made another cop spin\n  Now Uncle Sam really wants me\n  But I'ma hit some more spots, then I'm flyin out the country\n  It ain't about runnin off like a sucker\n  I dug my own grave out this motherfucker\n  So I gotta hustle and gamble\n  But before I split, believe I leavin shit in shambles\n  It's a long plane ride, but a nigga gotta survive\n  I'm still wanted dead or alive\n\n  I'm turnin the city morgue to a deli\n  Was in the belly of the beast now the beast is in my belly\n  I gotta get up more loot\n  Time to throw back on the army suits and Timberland boots\n  Blast at the niggaz from the East New York scene\n  I got my man C with me from Fort Greene\n  Al Capone, D Creative G, and peep my man named B\n  Ready to peel caps like potatoes\n  Kev and Akinyele's on the lookout\n  Up in the spot, niggaz are crooked out and took out\n  *Bang* There goes a brain *bang* There goes a liver\n  Ain't no time, for dumpin niggaz in the river\n  I ain't lovin you niggaz no more\n  *Vrrrrrrrrrroom* It's time for the chainsaw\n  Off with the legs, arms, and head later\n  And throw the shit down in the incinerator\n  Then I'm off with the drugs and ends\n  Now it's time to get some motherfuckin revenge\n  To the nigga that stuck me in jail\n  I sent his momma's fingers to him in the mail\n  Caught up with his ass inside the 10th floor hall\n  *Bullets spray* Painted the motherfuckin walls\n  Never mind having balls, you niggaz better duck and dive\n  I'm still wanted dead or alive\n\n  Aiyyo Jinx, bust em in they motherfuckin face\n\n  \"I pop in my Kool G. Rap and Polo tape\" -> Chuck D\n\n  They was - straight goin out like a gunner\n  Because a nigga's wanted, I'm even hunted by bounty hunters\n  But I'm spittin out bigger lead\n  They got about a half a million dollar reward on a nigga's head\n  But I murdered the whole crew\n  I saw they spirits leave they bodies and I shot at them bitches too\n  I put the nine to their it's so simple\n  *Bang bang* Now that's what I call a Holy Temple\n  You put a nigga to the test\n  But if you fuck with me, then you fuckin with the best\n  I'm wettin niggaz and I'm fleein G\n  Cause Sing-Sing? ain't seein me\n  You gettin zipped up in leather\n  Cause if your ass leaks once, then your ass leaks forever\n  To the nigga that threatened my life\n  Went up to his crib, started wettin his wife\n  Nigga hidin in a closet\n  Checked his ass, and made a motherfuckin deposit\n  Sucker tried to get live\n  Yeah, I'm still wanted dead or alive\n"},{"id":7692945,"name":"Home Sweet Home","trackName":"Home Sweet Home","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":158.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Kool g. rap]\nBrothers on the corner sellin junk\nGot held up by the hotties got the shotties in the trunk\nYou got the hardrocks wavin glocks at the punks\nPolice only harass you when they wanna get a chunk\nThey got so many corners and they got so many spots\nAnd i can't even bump up the block\nWithout the \"yo man what you got?\"\nI'm walkin past somebody lookin strange\nHe's lookin for a hit for veins\nOr he'll blow out somebody's brains\nEven the shorties livin naughty lives\nWalkin around, even drive around, with big forty-fives\nI just found out the candy store's a front\nThey walk in the candy store\nMan g, candy's far from what they want\nYou might see a pickle or a popsicle\nBut if you step to the back, you get dimes, twenties, and nickels\nHoney used to look like a winner\nNow she can't even get took to dinner\nCause so many dealers ran up in her\nSomebody's blood is on the tar\nLast night was a homicide from a fight inside the bar\nLoudmouth tryin to show her ass, but somebody\nBroke a whiskey bottle and cut her butt up with the glass\nMoney got robbed for his bank\nThey broke in his house and took everything\nExcept the kitchen sink\nLittle man murdered on the scene\nHe tried to come off at the liquor store, he's only 17\nGranny's damn near pushin 80\nA couple of hoods grabbed her pocketbook, and stabbed up the lady\nCover your head, cause it's a dead zone, in the red zone\nYeah, this is my home sweet home\n\nThree card molly, another man to fool\nWhites will stop at the red lights, to look at us like animals\nI'm gettin frisked by the cops\nThey only tryin to get props, for blowin off a black man's top\nUp in apartment 3g, this sweetie named didi wants to see me\nBut yo i heard she's givin vd\nJust when you think the skies are gettin blue\n\nBang bang -- another brother's split in two\nCan't sleep, cause the streets are filled with danger\nMiss, your little daughter's a swinger, you can't change her\nShe left with a stranger, inside a drug dealer's party\nNow off to the morgue, to go indentify her body\nSonny boy is goin on the strip\nRobbin niggaz cracks, with a mac, without a clip\nSomebody gave a tip, so the next time he flipped\nAnd shorty got ragged, another bodybag is zipped\nA baby is born and needs lovin\nBut instead, the mother smothered him and shoved him in a oven\nCops killin our kids, but they bill us\nSo what's more worse, the killer cops or the cop killers\nEveryday's another risk\nI'm even mad to go to my pad, the hallways always smell like piss\nNo heat, just pots of hot water\nI'm walkin eight flights up, the elevator's out of order\nMan that landlord is the lowest\nBecause i let my door slam and saw a damn eviction notice\nI felt like breakin all his bones, pssssh\nI'm gettin kicked out of my home sweet home\n\n*Door shuts*","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Home Sweet Home\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 158000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Kool g. rap]\n  Brothers on the corner sellin junk\n  Got held up by the hotties got the shotties in the trunk\n  You got the hardrocks wavin glocks at the punks\n  Police only harass you when they wanna get a chunk\n  They got so many corners and they got so many spots\n  And i can't even bump up the block\n  Without the \"yo man what you got?\"\n  I'm walkin past somebody lookin strange\n  He's lookin for a hit for veins\n  Or he'll blow out somebody's brains\n  Even the shorties livin naughty lives\n  Walkin around, even drive around, with big forty-fives\n  I just found out the candy store's a front\n  They walk in the candy store\n  Man g, candy's far from what they want\n  You might see a pickle or a popsicle\n  But if you step to the back, you get dimes, twenties, and nickels\n  Honey used to look like a winner\n  Now she can't even get took to dinner\n  Cause so many dealers ran up in her\n  Somebody's blood is on the tar\n  Last night was a homicide from a fight inside the bar\n  Loudmouth tryin to show her ass, but somebody\n  Broke a whiskey bottle and cut her butt up with the glass\n  Money got robbed for his bank\n  They broke in his house and took everything\n  Except the kitchen sink\n  Little man murdered on the scene\n  He tried to come off at the liquor store, he's only 17\n  Granny's damn near pushin 80\n  A couple of hoods grabbed her pocketbook, and stabbed up the lady\n  Cover your head, cause it's a dead zone, in the red zone\n  Yeah, this is my home sweet home\n\n  Three card molly, another man to fool\n  Whites will stop at the red lights, to look at us like animals\n  I'm gettin frisked by the cops\n  They only tryin to get props, for blowin off a black man's top\n  Up in apartment 3g, this sweetie named didi wants to see me\n  But yo i heard she's givin vd\n  Just when you think the skies are gettin blue\n\n  Bang bang -- another brother's split in two\n  Can't sleep, cause the streets are filled with danger\n  Miss, your little daughter's a swinger, you can't change her\n  She left with a stranger, inside a drug dealer's party\n  Now off to the morgue, to go indentify her body\n  Sonny boy is goin on the strip\n  Robbin niggaz cracks, with a mac, without a clip\n  Somebody gave a tip, so the next time he flipped\n  And shorty got ragged, another bodybag is zipped\n  A baby is born and needs lovin\n  But instead, the mother smothered him and shoved him in a oven\n  Cops killin our kids, but they bill us\n  So what's more worse, the killer cops or the cop killers\n  Everyday's another risk\n  I'm even mad to go to my pad, the hallways always smell like piss\n  No heat, just pots of hot water\n  I'm walkin eight flights up, the elevator's out of order\n  Man that landlord is the lowest\n  Because i let my door slam and saw a damn eviction notice\n  I felt like breakin all his bones, pssssh\n  I'm gettin kicked out of my home sweet home\n\n  *Door shuts*\n"},{"id":7692964,"name":"Go for Your Guns","trackName":"Go for Your Guns","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":277.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Get down let's see your hands see your hands!\nLet's see your hands everybody hands!\nEverybody let's see some hands! huh?\nDon't nobody move!\nDon't get out of the car stay where you're at\"\n\nVerse one:\n\nNiggaz in the street that i dislike\n\nYou better get this right\nThese days what the fuck is a fist fight\nPicture me puttin niggaz in headlocks\nWhen i can lick off shots and put they ass in a box\nCause if you steppin to me tryin to throw a right hook\nYou're just lookin to get your motherfuckin life took\nCause i can't wait to be a niggaz fate\nSo while you lift weights, i'm liftin lite-ass nickel plates\nSo if you wanna misbehave nigga\nI'll have to kick it to the motherfuckin grave digger\nYeah motherfucker you heard it\nDoin all that rope-a-dope shit, nope, your dopey-ass murdered\nNiggaz'll be the karate kid\nBut i'll be in prison doin a motherfuckin body-bid\nSo you can take all that rocky shit home\nSylvester stallone ain't shit against al capone\nCause i ain't got no patience or energy\nFor motherfuckers and punk-ass suckers that wanna injure me\nStep up and play me like i'm soft\nBitch i don't knock motherfuckers out, i'm knockin motherfuckers off\nLeavin the scene like machine gun kelly\nTwo to the head about four cross the belly\nSteady givin niggaz the runs\nFuckin clam put your fists down and go for your guns\n\n\"Alright, on the ground, face down face down on the ground\nGet on the ground\nHands behind your head\"\n\n\"So, so what are you gonna do?\nBeat-beat the crap out of me?\" no!\n\nVerse two:\n\nYou punk-ass niggaz better hop or chill\nCause my glock can kill twenty motherfuckers with boxer skills\nThat's how i put a niggaz head out\nThe murder scene needs more than visine to get the red out\nAnd i don't give a fuck if you know judo\nCause i'ma blow your motherfuckin ass to pluto\nAnd when i blast the trey niggaz pass away\nPut in the ground til your silly clown ass decay\nSo all you niggaz with the jokes\n(Is everybody ready?) well dibbida-dat's all folks\nCause nigga you don't want the nine to go (boom)\nNiggaz like tyson woulda died a long time ago\nRan outta luck when i struck on you sucker ducks\nNo uppercuts you'll be another motherfucker bucked\nGettin all rumps in stuffed up boots\nHell no, i'm givin motherfuckers burial suits\nYour little t.k.o was a.o.k.\nMy way is r.i.p., niggaz are d.o.a.\nDead on arrival\nSo nigga you better come with your gun if you want survival\nFrom the mak-11\nAnd those are real shots on the motherfuckin track 7\nI ain't kickin niggaz buns\nIf it's a bitch i'ma wetta you better go for your guns\n\n\"Yo wassup, what the fuck is up now man?\nWhat?\nWhere my money at man?\nHey yo, yo i told you i'd see you when i see you\nAww man you act like you wanna fight\nWhat what? yeah yeah alright yeah, i wanna fight\" *boom*\n\nVerse three:\n\nRollin up on niggaz wearin wigs\nCause i got a sig for you nigs and all you motherfuckin pigs\nKool g rap's a bad decision\nFuck front page i'm puttin niggaz on television\nI got heart kid if you want we can throw it out\nBut you ain't got no heart motherfucker when i blow it out\nStraight out your back\nCause you got attacked by the mack let's see you black belt dat\nPicture me doin some pushups, and get ambushed up\nAnd put in a box all squooshed up\nSo motherfucker be a learner\nCause i can't hit or wrestle a niggaz without pullin out my burner\nSo when a motherfucker want to fight\nYou fuck around with g and you'll be fightin death tonight\nSo you don't wanna get loose g\nCause i'm givin more flat lines to niggaz than loose-leaf\nSo come on bruce lee\nYo i'ma show you who the motherfucker is with all the juice g\nSo if you wanna intimidate\nA nigga like me, great, will make your fuckin head disinigrate\nI'm sendin niggaz to bedrock\nLook out for the red dot\nOr get your motherfuckin head shot\nNiggaz are dialin 911\nHuh, you little bitch niggaz go for your guns","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Go for Your Guns\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 277000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  \"Get down let's see your hands see your hands!\n  Let's see your hands everybody hands!\n  Everybody let's see some hands! huh?\n  Don't nobody move!\n  Don't get out of the car stay where you're at\"\n\n  Verse one:\n\n  Niggaz in the street that i dislike\n\n  You better get this right\n  These days what the fuck is a fist fight\n  Picture me puttin niggaz in headlocks\n  When i can lick off shots and put they ass in a box\n  Cause if you steppin to me tryin to throw a right hook\n  You're just lookin to get your motherfuckin life took\n  Cause i can't wait to be a niggaz fate\n  So while you lift weights, i'm liftin lite-ass nickel plates\n  So if you wanna misbehave nigga\n  I'll have to kick it to the motherfuckin grave digger\n  Yeah motherfucker you heard it\n  Doin all that rope-a-dope shit, nope, your dopey-ass murdered\n  Niggaz'll be the karate kid\n  But i'll be in prison doin a motherfuckin body-bid\n  So you can take all that rocky shit home\n  Sylvester stallone ain't shit against al capone\n  Cause i ain't got no patience or energy\n  For motherfuckers and punk-ass suckers that wanna injure me\n  Step up and play me like i'm soft\n  Bitch i don't knock motherfuckers out, i'm knockin motherfuckers off\n  Leavin the scene like machine gun kelly\n  Two to the head about four cross the belly\n  Steady givin niggaz the runs\n  Fuckin clam put your fists down and go for your guns\n\n  \"Alright, on the ground, face down face down on the ground\n  Get on the ground\n  Hands behind your head\"\n\n  \"So, so what are you gonna do?\n  Beat-beat the crap out of me?\" no!\n\n  Verse two:\n\n  You punk-ass niggaz better hop or chill\n  Cause my glock can kill twenty motherfuckers with boxer skills\n  That's how i put a niggaz head out\n  The murder scene needs more than visine to get the red out\n  And i don't give a fuck if you know judo\n  Cause i'ma blow your motherfuckin ass to pluto\n  And when i blast the trey niggaz pass away\n  Put in the ground til your silly clown ass decay\n  So all you niggaz with the jokes\n  (Is everybody ready?) well dibbida-dat's all folks\n  Cause nigga you don't want the nine to go (boom)\n  Niggaz like tyson woulda died a long time ago\n  Ran outta luck when i struck on you sucker ducks\n  No uppercuts you'll be another motherfucker bucked\n  Gettin all rumps in stuffed up boots\n  Hell no, i'm givin motherfuckers burial suits\n  Your little t.k.o was a.o.k.\n  My way is r.i.p., niggaz are d.o.a.\n  Dead on arrival\n  So nigga you better come with your gun if you want survival\n  From the mak-11\n  And those are real shots on the motherfuckin track 7\n  I ain't kickin niggaz buns\n  If it's a bitch i'ma wetta you better go for your guns\n\n  \"Yo wassup, what the fuck is up now man?\n  What?\n  Where my money at man?\n  Hey yo, yo i told you i'd see you when i see you\n  Aww man you act like you wanna fight\n  What what? yeah yeah alright yeah, i wanna fight\" *boom*\n\n  Verse three:\n\n  Rollin up on niggaz wearin wigs\n  Cause i got a sig for you nigs and all you motherfuckin pigs\n  Kool g rap's a bad decision\n  Fuck front page i'm puttin niggaz on television\n  I got heart kid if you want we can throw it out\n  But you ain't got no heart motherfucker when i blow it out\n  Straight out your back\n  Cause you got attacked by the mack let's see you black belt dat\n  Picture me doin some pushups, and get ambushed up\n  And put in a box all squooshed up\n  So motherfucker be a learner\n  Cause i can't hit or wrestle a niggaz without pullin out my burner\n  So when a motherfucker want to fight\n  You fuck around with g and you'll be fightin death tonight\n  So you don't wanna get loose g\n  Cause i'm givin more flat lines to niggaz than loose-leaf\n  So come on bruce lee\n  Yo i'ma show you who the motherfucker is with all the juice g\n  So if you wanna intimidate\n  A nigga like me, great, will make your fuckin head disinigrate\n  I'm sendin niggaz to bedrock\n  Look out for the red dot\n  Or get your motherfuckin head shot\n  Niggaz are dialin 911\n  Huh, you little bitch niggaz go for your guns\n"},{"id":7692975,"name":"Edge of Sanity","trackName":"Edge of Sanity","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":313.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm on the verge of commitin murder\nMy girl is gettin on my last nerve and i don't wanna hurt her\nShe wants me to get a job\nI get harassed cause i'm laying on my ass like a big slob\nBut everywhere i go i get rejected\nThey won't hire a motherfucker with a jail record\nSo the least i could do is look presentable\nBut i'm labelled by the city as a criminal\nThey won't give me no slack jack\nAnd i got one strike against me already because my skin is black\nSee i'm irrelevant to help wanted signs\nAnd they wonder why niggaz commit crimes\nMy girl pays the rent gas and light\nGoes to class at days and works at night\nI'm trying to get some money i can hand to her\nBut i ain't with bein a motherfuckin janitor\nPlus i got my little nigga\nAnd i'm tryin my best to be the right kind of father figure\nBut my hands is startin to shake\nI'm tryin to hold my head because i'm reachin for the thirty-eight\nI pick it up, man fuckit\nI gotta go out and hit the street and get some ducats\nLookin for somethin to hit\nI throw on my hood, cause i'm about to do some stupid shit\nI step in the seven-eleven\nCome fast with the cash or get your ass sent to heaven\nHe must hit the alarm, cause i'm perspirin\nCause now i'm hearin motherfuckin sirens\nI tried to run out, three thousand decent\nNext thing i know, i'm sittin in a fuckin precinct\nFor tryin to feed a family\nI need rubber balls, cause i'm fallin off the edge of sanity\n\nEdge of sanity (2x)\n\nWhat a fucked up night\nAnd i'm mad because the cop put on the handcuffs too fuckin tight\n\nCentral bookin is where they sent me\nSo they could take a couple of pictures after they fingerprint me\nThen they put me in a cell\nAnd it was all full of niggaz that was dirty and stinkin as hell\nFour hours passed already, so now i'm yawnin\nAnd i'm hopin to see the judge in the mornin\nFinally they call my name and i get up with speed\nTo appear before the judge, and make a plead\nI saw the judge, he was a brother\nHe said, \"how do you plead?\" i said, \"not guilty, motherfucker!\"\nThen i got kicked out of court, sent to the island\nWhere they got all of these young brothers wildin\nAnd all i seen was teenagers\nAnd brothers just slicin one another with straight razors\nI saw this nigga, he was stone tall\nI said, \"yo, i gotta make this motherfuckin phone call\"\nHe said, \"these whores are mine, and you ain't widdit\"\nAnd put his face all up in mine, so i hit it\nC.o.'s came, niggaz started to zing\nNow i gotta do about three days in the bank\nI did my time and now i'm back from my vacation\nRight on track, they put me back in populations\nI got dressed, and hit the mess hall\nThen when i came back, finally i got to make my phone call\nMy girl is bringin out the man in me\nCause she's yellin and shit, while i'm hangin on the edge of sanity\n\nEdge of sanity (4x)\n\nI'm sittin up north, and doin three to nine\nAnd it feels like my whole life is bein left behind\nI'm goin crazy in this place\nAnd i'm countin the days, cause i'm about to be a mental case\nMy little son is gettin bigger\nAnd he picked up the phone one day and thought i was some other nigga\nYeah that bitch is tryin to play me like a sucker\nCause on the down and low i heard another nigga fucked her\nNow homicide is on my mind\nFor knowin that this bitch is at home, screwin while i'm doin time\nAnd the nigga that's hittin the skins\nIs a bold motherfucker cause he's one of my own friends\nBut that's alright cause i got somethin for they asses\nAnd when i see him i'ma smash his fuckin glasses\nLivin in hell but now my blood is gettin cold\nTwo months later, i got released on parole\nSo now i'm rollin colder than a blizzard\nI got some iron from my man and went to pay the stupid bitch a visit\nI'm ringin the bell like hell\nOh nobody's home huh? so i kicked it til the shit fell\nStepped in the house with my finger on the trigger\nButter ass nigga stuttered, \"wha-wha-what's up nigga?\"\nMy bitch was scared, cause she knew that i was steamin\nShe ran her ass to the back and started screamin\n*One shot fired* to the body *two shots fired* to the head\n*One shot fired* put the barrel in his mouth, makin sure he's dead\nAnd the police ain't cannin me\nInside a cell, cause i just fell off the edge of sanity\n\nEdge of sanity (2x)","syncedLyrics":"[00:13.02] I'm on the verge of commitin murder\n[00:14.74] My girl is gettin on my last nerve and i don't wanna hurt her\n[00:17.78] She wants me to get a job\n[00:20.05] I get harassed cause i'm laying on my ass like a big slob\n[00:23.63] But everywhere i go i get rejected\n[00:26.33] They won't hire a motherfucker with a jail record\n[00:29.28] So the least i could do is look presentable\n[00:32.15] But i'm labelled by the city as a criminal\n[00:35.05] They won't give me no slack jack\n[00:37.27] And i got one strike against me already because my skin is black\n[00:40.72] See i'm irrelevant to help wanted signs\n[00:43.61] And they wonder why niggaz commit crimes\n[00:46.51] My girl pays the rent gas and light\n[00:49.04] Goes to class at days and works at night\n[00:52.36] I'm trying to get some money i can hand to her\n[00:55.22] But i ain't with bein a motherfuckin janitor\n[00:58.02] Plus i got my little nigga\n[01:00.53] And i'm tryin my best to be the right kind of father figure\n[01:03.81] But my hands is startin to shake\n[01:06.17] I'm tryin to hold my head because i'm reachin for the thirty-eight\n[01:09.52] I pick it up, man fuckit\n[01:11.93] I gotta go out and hit the street and get some ducats\n[01:15.33] Lookin for somethin to hit\n[01:17.98] I throw on my hood, cause i'm about to do some stupid shit\n[01:21.15] I step in the seven-eleven\n[01:23.69] Come fast with the cash or get your ass sent to heaven\n[01:27.14] He must hit the alarm, cause i'm perspirin\n[01:29.99] Cause now i'm hearin motherfuckin sirens\n[01:32.67] I tried to run out, three thousand decent\n[01:35.58] Next thing i know, i'm sittin in a fuckin precinct\n[01:38.58] For tryin to feed a family\n[01:40.70] I need rubber balls, cause i'm fallin off the edge of sanity\n[01:48.73] Edge of sanity (2x)\n[01:57.27] What a fucked up night\n[01:58.36] And i'm mad because the cop put on the handcuffs too fuckin tight\n[02:01.96] Central bookin is where they sent me\n[02:03.91] So they could take a couple of pictures after they fingerprint me\n[02:07.24] Then they put me in a cell\n[02:09.62] And it was all full of niggaz that was dirty and stinkin as hell\n[02:13.07] Four hours passed already, so now i'm yawnin\n[02:15.81] And i'm hopin to see the judge in the mornin\n[02:18.55] Finally they call my name and i get up with speed\n[02:21.68] To appear before the judge, and make a plead\n[02:24.43] I saw the judge, he was a brother\n[02:26.99] He said, \"how do you plead?\" i said, \"not guilty, motherfucker!\"\n[02:28.55] Then i got kicked out of court, sent to the island\n[02:32.96] Where they got all of these young brothers wildin\n[02:35.71] And all i seen was teenagers\n[02:38.48] And brothers just slicin one another with straight razors\n[02:41.67] I saw this nigga, he was stone tall\n[02:44.49] I said, \"yo, i gotta make this motherfuckin phone call\"\n[02:47.71] He said, \"these whores are mine, and you ain't widdit\"\n[02:50.40] And put his face all up in mine, so i hit it\n[02:53.42] C.o.'s came, niggaz started to zing\n[02:56.39] Now i gotta do about three days in the bank\n[02:59.06] I did my time and now i'm back from my vacation\n[03:01.82] Right on track, they put me back in populations\n[03:04.93] I got dressed, and hit the mess hall\n[03:07.45] Then when i came back, finally i got to make my phone call\n[03:10.70] My girl is bringin out the man in me\n[03:13.11] Cause she's yellin and shit, while i'm hangin on the edge of sanity\n[03:22.64] Edge of sanity (4x)\n[03:40.30] I'm sittin up north, and doin three to nine\n[03:42.44] And it feels like my whole life is bein left behind\n[03:45.22] I'm goin crazy in this place\n[03:49.27] And i'm countin the days, cause i'm about to be a mental case\n[03:51.01] My little son is gettin bigger\n[03:53.33] And he picked up the phone one day and thought i was some other nigga\n[03:57.02] Yeah that bitch is tryin to play me like a sucker\n[03:59.53] Cause on the down and low i heard another nigga fucked her\n[04:02.61] Now homicide is on my mind\n[04:05.04] For knowin that this bitch is at home, screwin while i'm doin time\n[04:08.58] And the nigga that's hittin the skins\n[04:10.80] Is a bold motherfucker cause he's one of my own friends\n[04:14.68] But that's alright cause i got somethin for they asses\n[04:17.08] And when i see him i'ma smash his fuckin glasses\n[04:19.85] Livin in hell but now my blood is gettin cold\n[04:22.74] Two months later, i got released on parole\n[04:25.69] So now i'm rollin colder than a blizzard\n[04:27.64] I got some iron from my man and went to pay the stupid bitch a visit\n[04:31.11] I'm ringin the bell like hell\n[04:34.29] Oh nobody's home huh? so i kicked it til the shit fell\n[04:37.15] Stepped in the house with my finger on the trigger\n[04:40.02] Butter ass nigga stuttered, \"wha-wha-what's up nigga?\"\n[04:42.92] My bitch was scared, cause she knew that i was steamin\n[04:45.74] She ran her ass to the back and started screamin\n[04:48.68] *One shot fired* to the body *two shots fired* to the head\n[04:49.74] *One shot fired* put the barrel in his mouth, makin sure he's dead\n[04:54.78] And the police ain't cannin me\n[04:57.04] Inside a cell, cause i just fell off the edge of sanity\n[05:00.24] Edge of sanity (2x)\n[05:11.09] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Edge of Sanity\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 313000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm on the verge of commitin murder\n  start_ms: 13020\n  end_ms: 14740\n- text: My girl is gettin on my last nerve and i don't wanna hurt her\n  start_ms: 14740\n  end_ms: 17780\n- text: She wants me to get a job\n  start_ms: 17780\n  end_ms: 20050\n- text: I get harassed cause i'm laying on my ass like a big slob\n  start_ms: 20050\n  end_ms: 23630\n- text: But everywhere i go i get rejected\n  start_ms: 23630\n  end_ms: 26330\n- text: They won't hire a motherfucker with a jail record\n  start_ms: 26330\n  end_ms: 29280\n- text: So the least i could do is look presentable\n  start_ms: 29280\n  end_ms: 32150\n- text: But i'm labelled by the city as a criminal\n  start_ms: 32150\n  end_ms: 35050\n- text: They won't give me no slack jack\n  start_ms: 35050\n  end_ms: 37270\n- text: And i got one strike against me already because my skin is black\n  start_ms: 37270\n  end_ms: 40720\n- text: See i'm irrelevant to help wanted signs\n  start_ms: 40720\n  end_ms: 43610\n- text: And they wonder why niggaz commit crimes\n  start_ms: 43610\n  end_ms: 46510\n- text: My girl pays the rent gas and light\n  start_ms: 46510\n  end_ms: 49040\n- text: Goes to class at days and works at night\n  start_ms: 49040\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: I'm trying to get some money i can hand to her\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55220\n- text: But i ain't with bein a motherfuckin janitor\n  start_ms: 55220\n  end_ms: 58020\n- text: Plus i got my little nigga\n  start_ms: 58020\n  end_ms: 60530\n- text: And i'm tryin my best to be the right kind of father figure\n  start_ms: 60530\n  end_ms: 63810\n- text: But my hands is startin to shake\n  start_ms: 63810\n  end_ms: 66170\n- text: I'm tryin to hold my head because i'm reachin for the thirty-eight\n  start_ms: 66170\n  end_ms: 69520\n- text: I pick it up, man fuckit\n  start_ms: 69520\n  end_ms: 71930\n- text: I gotta go out and hit the street and get some ducats\n  start_ms: 71930\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: Lookin for somethin to hit\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 77980\n- text: I throw on my hood, cause i'm about to do some stupid shit\n  start_ms: 77980\n  end_ms: 81150\n- text: I step in the seven-eleven\n  start_ms: 81150\n  end_ms: 83690\n- text: Come fast with the cash or get your ass sent to heaven\n  start_ms: 83690\n  end_ms: 87140\n- text: He must hit the alarm, cause i'm perspirin\n  start_ms: 87140\n  end_ms: 89990\n- text: Cause now i'm hearin motherfuckin sirens\n  start_ms: 89990\n  end_ms: 92670\n- text: I tried to run out, three thousand decent\n  start_ms: 92670\n  end_ms: 95580\n- text: Next thing i know, i'm sittin in a fuckin precinct\n  start_ms: 95580\n  end_ms: 98580\n- text: For tryin to feed a family\n  start_ms: 98580\n  end_ms: 100700\n- text: I need rubber balls, cause i'm fallin off the edge of sanity\n  start_ms: 100700\n  end_ms: 108730\n- text: Edge of sanity (2x)\n  start_ms: 108730\n  end_ms: 117270\n- text: What a fucked up night\n  start_ms: 117270\n  end_ms: 118360\n- text: And i'm mad because the cop put on the handcuffs too fuckin tight\n  start_ms: 118360\n  end_ms: 121960\n- text: Central bookin is where they sent me\n  start_ms: 121960\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: So they could take a couple of pictures after they fingerprint me\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 127240\n- text: Then they put me in a cell\n  start_ms: 127240\n  end_ms: 129620\n- text: And it was all full of niggaz that was dirty and stinkin as hell\n  start_ms: 129620\n  end_ms: 133070\n- text: Four hours passed already, so now i'm yawnin\n  start_ms: 133070\n  end_ms: 135810\n- text: And i'm hopin to see the judge in the mornin\n  start_ms: 135810\n  end_ms: 138550\n- text: Finally they call my name and i get up with speed\n  start_ms: 138550\n  end_ms: 141680\n- text: To appear before the judge, and make a plead\n  start_ms: 141680\n  end_ms: 144430\n- text: I saw the judge, he was a brother\n  start_ms: 144430\n  end_ms: 146990\n- text: He said, \"how do you plead?\" i said, \"not guilty, motherfucker!\"\n  start_ms: 146990\n  end_ms: 148550\n- text: Then i got kicked out of court, sent to the island\n  start_ms: 148550\n  end_ms: 152960\n- text: Where they got all of these young brothers wildin\n  start_ms: 152960\n  end_ms: 155710\n- text: And all i seen was teenagers\n  start_ms: 155710\n  end_ms: 158480\n- text: And brothers just slicin one another with straight razors\n  start_ms: 158480\n  end_ms: 161670\n- text: I saw this nigga, he was stone tall\n  start_ms: 161670\n  end_ms: 164490\n- text: I said, \"yo, i gotta make this motherfuckin phone call\"\n  start_ms: 164490\n  end_ms: 167710\n- text: He said, \"these whores are mine, and you ain't widdit\"\n  start_ms: 167710\n  end_ms: 170400\n- text: And put his face all up in mine, so i hit it\n  start_ms: 170400\n  end_ms: 173420\n- text: C.o.'s came, niggaz started to zing\n  start_ms: 173420\n  end_ms: 176390\n- text: Now i gotta do about three days in the bank\n  start_ms: 176390\n  end_ms: 179060\n- text: I did my time and now i'm back from my vacation\n  start_ms: 179060\n  end_ms: 181820\n- text: Right on track, they put me back in populations\n  start_ms: 181820\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: I got dressed, and hit the mess hall\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 187450\n- text: Then when i came back, finally i got to make my phone call\n  start_ms: 187450\n  end_ms: 190700\n- text: My girl is bringin out the man in me\n  start_ms: 190700\n  end_ms: 193110\n- text: Cause she's yellin and shit, while i'm hangin on the edge of sanity\n  start_ms: 193110\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: Edge of sanity (4x)\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 220300\n- text: I'm sittin up north, and doin three to nine\n  start_ms: 220300\n  end_ms: 222440\n- text: And it feels like my whole life is bein left behind\n  start_ms: 222440\n  end_ms: 225220\n- text: I'm goin crazy in this place\n  start_ms: 225220\n  end_ms: 229270\n- text: And i'm countin the days, cause i'm about to be a mental case\n  start_ms: 229270\n  end_ms: 231010\n- text: My little son is gettin bigger\n  start_ms: 231010\n  end_ms: 233330\n- text: And he picked up the phone one day and thought i was some other nigga\n  start_ms: 233330\n  end_ms: 237020\n- text: Yeah that bitch is tryin to play me like a sucker\n  start_ms: 237020\n  end_ms: 239530\n- text: Cause on the down and low i heard another nigga fucked her\n  start_ms: 239530\n  end_ms: 242610\n- text: Now homicide is on my mind\n  start_ms: 242610\n  end_ms: 245040\n- text: For knowin that this bitch is at home, screwin while i'm doin time\n  start_ms: 245040\n  end_ms: 248580\n- text: And the nigga that's hittin the skins\n  start_ms: 248580\n  end_ms: 250800\n- text: Is a bold motherfucker cause he's one of my own friends\n  start_ms: 250800\n  end_ms: 254680\n- text: But that's alright cause i got somethin for they asses\n  start_ms: 254680\n  end_ms: 257080\n- text: And when i see him i'ma smash his fuckin glasses\n  start_ms: 257080\n  end_ms: 259850\n- text: Livin in hell but now my blood is gettin cold\n  start_ms: 259850\n  end_ms: 262740\n- text: Two months later, i got released on parole\n  start_ms: 262740\n  end_ms: 265690\n- text: So now i'm rollin colder than a blizzard\n  start_ms: 265690\n  end_ms: 267640\n- text: I got some iron from my man and went to pay the stupid bitch a visit\n  start_ms: 267640\n  end_ms: 271110\n- text: I'm ringin the bell like hell\n  start_ms: 271110\n  end_ms: 274290\n- text: Oh nobody's home huh? so i kicked it til the shit fell\n  start_ms: 274290\n  end_ms: 277150\n- text: Stepped in the house with my finger on the trigger\n  start_ms: 277150\n  end_ms: 280020\n- text: Butter ass nigga stuttered, \"wha-wha-what's up nigga?\"\n  start_ms: 280020\n  end_ms: 282920\n- text: My bitch was scared, cause she knew that i was steamin\n  start_ms: 282920\n  end_ms: 285740\n- text: She ran her ass to the back and started screamin\n  start_ms: 285740\n  end_ms: 288680\n- text: '*One shot fired* to the body *two shots fired* to the head'\n  start_ms: 288680\n  end_ms: 289740\n- text: '*One shot fired* put the barrel in his mouth, makin sure he''s dead'\n  start_ms: 289740\n  end_ms: 294780\n- text: And the police ain't cannin me\n  start_ms: 294780\n  end_ms: 297040\n- text: Inside a cell, cause i just fell off the edge of sanity\n  start_ms: 297040\n  end_ms: 300240\n- text: Edge of sanity (2x)\n  start_ms: 300240\n  end_ms: 311090\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 311090\nplain: |-\n  I'm on the verge of commitin murder\n  My girl is gettin on my last nerve and i don't wanna hurt her\n  She wants me to get a job\n  I get harassed cause i'm laying on my ass like a big slob\n  But everywhere i go i get rejected\n  They won't hire a motherfucker with a jail record\n  So the least i could do is look presentable\n  But i'm labelled by the city as a criminal\n  They won't give me no slack jack\n  And i got one strike against me already because my skin is black\n  See i'm irrelevant to help wanted signs\n  And they wonder why niggaz commit crimes\n  My girl pays the rent gas and light\n  Goes to class at days and works at night\n  I'm trying to get some money i can hand to her\n  But i ain't with bein a motherfuckin janitor\n  Plus i got my little nigga\n  And i'm tryin my best to be the right kind of father figure\n  But my hands is startin to shake\n  I'm tryin to hold my head because i'm reachin for the thirty-eight\n  I pick it up, man fuckit\n  I gotta go out and hit the street and get some ducats\n  Lookin for somethin to hit\n  I throw on my hood, cause i'm about to do some stupid shit\n  I step in the seven-eleven\n  Come fast with the cash or get your ass sent to heaven\n  He must hit the alarm, cause i'm perspirin\n  Cause now i'm hearin motherfuckin sirens\n  I tried to run out, three thousand decent\n  Next thing i know, i'm sittin in a fuckin precinct\n  For tryin to feed a family\n  I need rubber balls, cause i'm fallin off the edge of sanity\n\n  Edge of sanity (2x)\n\n  What a fucked up night\n  And i'm mad because the cop put on the handcuffs too fuckin tight\n\n  Central bookin is where they sent me\n  So they could take a couple of pictures after they fingerprint me\n  Then they put me in a cell\n  And it was all full of niggaz that was dirty and stinkin as hell\n  Four hours passed already, so now i'm yawnin\n  And i'm hopin to see the judge in the mornin\n  Finally they call my name and i get up with speed\n  To appear before the judge, and make a plead\n  I saw the judge, he was a brother\n  He said, \"how do you plead?\" i said, \"not guilty, motherfucker!\"\n  Then i got kicked out of court, sent to the island\n  Where they got all of these young brothers wildin\n  And all i seen was teenagers\n  And brothers just slicin one another with straight razors\n  I saw this nigga, he was stone tall\n  I said, \"yo, i gotta make this motherfuckin phone call\"\n  He said, \"these whores are mine, and you ain't widdit\"\n  And put his face all up in mine, so i hit it\n  C.o.'s came, niggaz started to zing\n  Now i gotta do about three days in the bank\n  I did my time and now i'm back from my vacation\n  Right on track, they put me back in populations\n  I got dressed, and hit the mess hall\n  Then when i came back, finally i got to make my phone call\n  My girl is bringin out the man in me\n  Cause she's yellin and shit, while i'm hangin on the edge of sanity\n\n  Edge of sanity (4x)\n\n  I'm sittin up north, and doin three to nine\n  And it feels like my whole life is bein left behind\n  I'm goin crazy in this place\n  And i'm countin the days, cause i'm about to be a mental case\n  My little son is gettin bigger\n  And he picked up the phone one day and thought i was some other nigga\n  Yeah that bitch is tryin to play me like a sucker\n  Cause on the down and low i heard another nigga fucked her\n  Now homicide is on my mind\n  For knowin that this bitch is at home, screwin while i'm doin time\n  And the nigga that's hittin the skins\n  Is a bold motherfucker cause he's one of my own friends\n  But that's alright cause i got somethin for they asses\n  And when i see him i'ma smash his fuckin glasses\n  Livin in hell but now my blood is gettin cold\n  Two months later, i got released on parole\n  So now i'm rollin colder than a blizzard\n  I got some iron from my man and went to pay the stupid bitch a visit\n  I'm ringin the bell like hell\n  Oh nobody's home huh? so i kicked it til the shit fell\n  Stepped in the house with my finger on the trigger\n  Butter ass nigga stuttered, \"wha-wha-what's up nigga?\"\n  My bitch was scared, cause she knew that i was steamin\n  She ran her ass to the back and started screamin\n  *One shot fired* to the body *two shots fired* to the head\n  *One shot fired* put the barrel in his mouth, makin sure he's dead\n  And the police ain't cannin me\n  Inside a cell, cause i just fell off the edge of sanity\n\n  Edge of sanity (2x)\n"},{"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":7692978,"name":"Fuck U Man","trackName":"Fuck U Man","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus from \"Talk Like Sex\" begins] (\"Can ya dig it honey...?\")\n\nSince I made the record \"Talk Like Sex,\"\nBitches are comin' up with their friends for a nigga to hit the skins.\nHopin' the Kool G Rap was just makin' rhymes,\nBut I'm leavin' bitches' vaginas with more stitches than Frankenstein.\nSome even had the nerve to try to give me head,\nAnd swallow the whole jimmy to make a nigga fed.\nBut come on you bitches, don't make me laugh;\nYou couldn't deep throat G Rap if you was a motherfuckin' giraffe.\nDag, some even fled when they saw the head,\n'Cause G's dick would make you seasick fuckin' me in a waterbed.\nDon't try to paly me like no sucker,\n'Cause these bitches'll be callin' up Dial-a-Mattress like a motherfucker.\nYou heard the song before; you don't wanna see me,\n\"I'll fuck you on the A-train while I write graffiti.\"\nI'll even fuck you in a taxi cab,\nAnd after sex with a nigga you'll be buyin' a box of maxi-pads.\nSoon as you open your legs,\nNo need for no birth control, bitch, 'cause my dick is touchin' the eggs.\nKool G Rap, the pussy slammer;\nHell, I'd be talkin' fucked up grammar if you was Bad Mamma Jamma.\nI ain't small, I'll have you cummin' like waterfalls,\nAnd then turn them sugar walls into Carnegie Hall.\nLeavin' my mark on bitches like Zorro,\nPlus fuckin' bitches so def like there won't be no pussy left tomorrow.\nHittin' hoes like it ain't funny,\nI think about bowls of Cheerios because I want my nuts and honey.\nTalkin' to all the women that look fine,\nPretendin' my prick was Moby Dick and have a whale of a time.\nNow I'm not a deep-sea diver,\nBut I love it when my dick's covered and smothered with saliva.\nShit, might even straighten out your dentures,\nBecause it's not just a blow job, honey, it's an adventure.\nBut 69, and I ain't with that:\nI'll go to a Chinese restaurant, bitch, if I wanna eat cats.\nBecause you gotta be brave to eat the tuna, G.\nSo when it comes to pussy-lickin', I'm the chicken of the sea.\nI should be on the sex channel;\nNot a chump 'cause I'm givin' punk-bitches better humps than camels.\nIf you're a virgin, I'll make it fit,\nBecause my dick'll pop the cherry and spit out the fuckin' pit.\nAnd if you're concerned, my sperm don't burn,\nAnd if it did, I'd give that nappy-headed ass a fuckin' perm.\nShucks, I instruct a fuckin' lesson.\nYou think it's painless? I hit the anus and fuck up your large intestines.\nLeavin' you bitches stingin' from the bangin';\nMy man Jimmy got a hole in his head, but yo, that nigga's still hangin'.\nBitch, you'd rather hump a fuckin' whole army,\n'Cause even the Witness Protection Program couldn't hide this man's salami.\nYou fuck around and catch a seizure,\nBefore I fuck a hoe I gots ta put the hooker under anesthesia.\nLettin' saliva dribble on your nipple,\nOrgasms double and triple sit ripple and turn your ass into a gripple.\nThen I see you searchin' for the swellin',\n'Cause I'm-a leave a hole so big your gynecologist might fall the hell in.\nGot damn! I hit the ham right;\nHoneybuns, you can ask my Three Sons, I got the Dick right out the Van Dyke.\nI'm fuckin' naked girls with fly rhymes,\nBut don't push me, because that pussy will be runnin' for it's nine lives.\nI know you hookers can't refuse this,\nBut dont' pick me to give no hickeys 'cause I'm givin' bitches bruises.\nYeah, I'll tear that pussy hole apart,\nFor fuckin' with G Rap after dark, you'd rather jog in Central Park.\nSo if you want kids before I fuck ya,\nLook at the size of my dick, and you'll let out the motherfuckers.\nShit, bitches get open like a can;\nJust leave it up to G Rap, 'cause I'm the neighborhood Fuck U Man...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fuck U Man\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus from \"Talk Like Sex\" begins] (\"Can ya dig it honey...?\")\n\n  Since I made the record \"Talk Like Sex,\"\n  Bitches are comin' up with their friends for a nigga to hit the skins.\n  Hopin' the Kool G Rap was just makin' rhymes,\n  But I'm leavin' bitches' vaginas with more stitches than Frankenstein.\n  Some even had the nerve to try to give me head,\n  And swallow the whole jimmy to make a nigga fed.\n  But come on you bitches, don't make me laugh;\n  You couldn't deep throat G Rap if you was a motherfuckin' giraffe.\n  Dag, some even fled when they saw the head,\n  'Cause G's dick would make you seasick fuckin' me in a waterbed.\n  Don't try to paly me like no sucker,\n  'Cause these bitches'll be callin' up Dial-a-Mattress like a motherfucker.\n  You heard the song before; you don't wanna see me,\n  \"I'll fuck you on the A-train while I write graffiti.\"\n  I'll even fuck you in a taxi cab,\n  And after sex with a nigga you'll be buyin' a box of maxi-pads.\n  Soon as you open your legs,\n  No need for no birth control, bitch, 'cause my dick is touchin' the eggs.\n  Kool G Rap, the pussy slammer;\n  Hell, I'd be talkin' fucked up grammar if you was Bad Mamma Jamma.\n  I ain't small, I'll have you cummin' like waterfalls,\n  And then turn them sugar walls into Carnegie Hall.\n  Leavin' my mark on bitches like Zorro,\n  Plus fuckin' bitches so def like there won't be no pussy left tomorrow.\n  Hittin' hoes like it ain't funny,\n  I think about bowls of Cheerios because I want my nuts and honey.\n  Talkin' to all the women that look fine,\n  Pretendin' my prick was Moby Dick and have a whale of a time.\n  Now I'm not a deep-sea diver,\n  But I love it when my dick's covered and smothered with saliva.\n  Shit, might even straighten out your dentures,\n  Because it's not just a blow job, honey, it's an adventure.\n  But 69, and I ain't with that:\n  I'll go to a Chinese restaurant, bitch, if I wanna eat cats.\n  Because you gotta be brave to eat the tuna, G.\n  So when it comes to pussy-lickin', I'm the chicken of the sea.\n  I should be on the sex channel;\n  Not a chump 'cause I'm givin' punk-bitches better humps than camels.\n  If you're a virgin, I'll make it fit,\n  Because my dick'll pop the cherry and spit out the fuckin' pit.\n  And if you're concerned, my sperm don't burn,\n  And if it did, I'd give that nappy-headed ass a fuckin' perm.\n  Shucks, I instruct a fuckin' lesson.\n  You think it's painless? I hit the anus and fuck up your large intestines.\n  Leavin' you bitches stingin' from the bangin';\n  My man Jimmy got a hole in his head, but yo, that nigga's still hangin'.\n  Bitch, you'd rather hump a fuckin' whole army,\n  'Cause even the Witness Protection Program couldn't hide this man's salami.\n  You fuck around and catch a seizure,\n  Before I fuck a hoe I gots ta put the hooker under anesthesia.\n  Lettin' saliva dribble on your nipple,\n  Orgasms double and triple sit ripple and turn your ass into a gripple.\n  Then I see you searchin' for the swellin',\n  'Cause I'm-a leave a hole so big your gynecologist might fall the hell in.\n  Got damn! I hit the ham right;\n  Honeybuns, you can ask my Three Sons, I got the Dick right out the Van Dyke.\n  I'm fuckin' naked girls with fly rhymes,\n  But don't push me, because that pussy will be runnin' for it's nine lives.\n  I know you hookers can't refuse this,\n  But dont' pick me to give no hickeys 'cause I'm givin' bitches bruises.\n  Yeah, I'll tear that pussy hole apart,\n  For fuckin' with G Rap after dark, you'd rather jog in Central Park.\n  So if you want kids before I fuck ya,\n  Look at the size of my dick, and you'll let out the motherfuckers.\n  Shit, bitches get open like a can;\n  Just leave it up to G Rap, 'cause I'm the neighborhood Fuck U Man...\n"},{"id":3448078,"name":"On the Run","trackName":"On the Run","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":280.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I got a job with the mob, makin G's\nDoin some pickups, deliveries and transportin keys\nYeah they got me like a flunkie\nI'm ridin around with ten kilos inside my trunk G\nAnd I'm holdin the suitcase\nWith a half a million dollars right in my motherfuckin face\nAnd I'm tryin to ignore it\nBut sometimes I get tempted to make a motherfuckin run for it\nThe thought alone makes me shiver, damn\nWhat if I get caught? They'll find me floatin in the Hudson river\nBut if I escape, I'll be in shape for my life\nBut they might, get my kid and my wife\nSee I'm supposed to make a stop\nTo an Uptown spot, run up the block and make another drop\nBut I got somethin else in mind\nCause I'm sick of puttin my motherfuckin ass on the line\nI got the money and the hit\nWent through the Brook nonstop cause I ain't droppin off shit\nThen I thought of a plan\nSo I droves to my house and got my girl and my little man\nC'mon bitch, pack the shit, get ready\n\"God damn why your face all sweaty?\"\nJust hurry up and get the shit\nI'm a dead man bitch, understand, we gotta split\nI switched the locks on the door\nStarted packin like I was goin on a motherfuckin world tour\nGrabbed my bags and my gun\nC'mon we gotta go... I'm on the motherfuckin run\n\nNow I'm drivin and I'm lookin at my passport\nI'm outta here soon as my ass hit the airport\nI loaded up the automatic\nI don't believe this shit, I'm stuck in motherfuckin traffic\nI'm gettin nervous as a fuck see\nA Lincoln Continental pullin right up beside me\nPuts down my bitch and then I bent low\n*Gunfire, breaking glass* Bullets are flying through my window\nThe enemy is on attack\nDrew the nine and cocked the hammer and I fired at the bitches back\nI gotta take my respect\nMy bullets hittin italian motherfuckers in the neck\nLooked at my bitch a bullet struck her\nPut in another clip, cause I ain't givin up a motherfucker\nNiggaz runnin up in trenches\nSprayin at my car, only missin me by fuckin inches\nStepped on the gas pedal, how bad my bitch is harmed?\nShit they only hit her in the fuckin arm\nNow I'm drivin off sidewalks, makin sharp turns\nMy son is catchin motherfuckin heartburns\nI got the car shakin wildly\nI made a turn, and then I dipped my shit into a dark alley\nThey drove right past, now all this chasin shit is done\nI'm on the motherfuckin run\n\nThe next thing I know, it was daylight\nAnd I been sleepin in this motherfucker all night\nI started pullin on my hoe\n\"C'mon man what?\" Wake up bitch, we gotta go!\nPulled out the alley, then I dipped\nLooked down and picked up the nine and put more rounds in the clip\nYou know I'm headin South no doubt\nAnd I don't give a fuck where, as long it's a hideout\nFinally we crossed the border, I pulled into a station\nTo fill up the tank, and get a drink of water\nPullin over to park my ride\nThat's when I noticed this limousine comin up on my left side\nThen the sucker started rammin me\nThen I looked, it was the Luciano family\nLooked at my bitch she started cryin, my finger on the trigger\nI pulled it -- bullets started flyin\nNow I'm hittin all them bastards\nI'm droppin em fast, splashin blood out niggaz asses\nThen I'm finally done and\nI took em all out, but I caught one in the stomach\nNow I'm lookin for survivors\nSo I ran up on the side of the car, and hit the driver\nAnd then I laid low\nThe only motherfucker left was Don Luciano\nSo I snuck up the sucker\nPut my gun to his head, \"Whassup now motherfucker?\"\nHe said, \"Wait, I want to talk\"\n*Five gunshots* I put his brains on the sidewalk\nAnother life I had to waste\nHe fell on his back, and then I spit right in his guinea face\nHe saw the barrel of the devil's gun\nNow I'm no longer on the motherfuckin run","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.96] I got a job with the mob, makin G's\n[00:12.67] Doin some pickups, deliveries and transportin keys\n[00:16.37] Yeah they got me like a flunkie\n[00:19.03] I'm ridin around with ten kilos inside my trunk G\n[00:22.60] And I'm holdin the suitcase\n[00:24.43] with a half a million dollars right in my motherfuckin face\n[00:27.10] And I'm tryin to ignore it\n[00:29.82] But sometimes I get tempted to make a motherfuckin run for it\n[00:33.43] The thought alone makes me shiver, damn\n[00:35.24] What if I get caught? They'll find me floatin in the Hudson river\n[00:37.94] But if I escape, I'll be in shape for my life\n[00:40.61] but they might, get my kid and my wife\n[00:43.46] See I'm supposed to make a stop\n[00:45.28] to an Uptown spot, run up the block and make another drop\n[00:48.86] But I got somethin else in mind\n[00:50.69] Cause I'm sick of puttin my motherfuckin ass on the line\n[00:54.27] I got the money and the hit\n[00:56.05] Went through the Brook nonstop cause I ain't droppin off shit\n[00:59.68] Then I thought of a plan\n[01:01.44] So I droves to my house and got my girl and my little man\n[01:05.02] C'mon bitch, pack the shit, get ready\n[01:06.92] \"God damn why your face all sweaty?\"\n[01:10.58] Just hurry up and get the shit\n[01:12.37] I'm a dead man bitch, understand, we gotta split\n[01:15.04] I switched the locks on the door\n[01:17.76] Started packin like I was goin on a motherfuckin world tour\n[01:21.45] Grabbed my bags and my gun\n[01:23.24] C'mon we gotta go... I'm on the motherfuckin run\n[01:25.90] Now I'm drivin and I'm lookin at my passport\n[01:39.56] I'm outta here soon as my ass hit the airport\n[01:42.21] I loaded up the automatic\n[01:44.97] I don't believe this shit, I'm stuck in motherfuckin traffic\n[01:48.53] I'm gettin nervous as a fuck see\n[01:50.48] A Lincoln Continental pullin right up beside me\n[01:53.11] Puts down my bitch and then I bent low\n[01:55.94] *gunfire, breaking glass* Bullets are flying through my window\n[01:58.62] The enemy is on attack\n[02:01.31] Drew the nine and cocked the hammer and I fired at the bitches back\n[02:04.06] I gotta take my respect\n[02:05.86] My bullets hittin italian motherfuckers in the neck\n[02:09.45] Looked at my bitch a bullet struck her\n[02:12.12] Put in another clip, cause I ain't givin up a motherfucker\n[02:14.87] Niggaz runnin up in trenches\n[02:17.52] Sprayin at my car, only missin me by fuckin inches\n[02:20.29] Stepped on the gas pedal, how bad my bitch is harmed?\n[02:23.94] Shit they only hit her in the fuckin arm\n[02:25.72] Now I'm drivin off sidewalks, makin sharp turns\n[02:28.47] My son is catchin motherfuckin heartburns\n[02:31.19] I got the car shakin wildly\n[02:32.90] I made a turn, and then I dipped my shit into a dark alley\n[02:36.51] They drove right past, now all this chasin shit is done\n[02:39.22] I'm on the motherfuckin run\n[02:41.92] The next thing I know, it was daylight\n[02:54.60] And I been sleepin in this motherfucker all night\n[02:58.39] I started pullin on my hoe\n[03:00.16] \"C'mon man what?\" Wake up bitch, we gotta go!\n[03:02.86] Pulled out the alley, then I dipped\n[03:05.54] Looked down and picked up the nine and put more rounds in the clip\n[03:08.21] You know I'm headin South no doubt\n[03:10.97] And I don't give a fuck where, as long it's a hideout\n[03:14.51] Finally we crossed the border, I pulled into a station\n[03:17.22] to fill up the tank, and get a drink of water\n[03:19.94] Pullin over to park my ride\n[03:21.84] That's when I noticed this limousine comin up on my left side\n[03:25.41] Then the sucker started rammin me\n[03:27.25] Then I looked, it was the Luciano family\n[03:29.98] Looked at my bitch she started cryin, my finger on the trigger\n[03:33.53] I pulled it -- bullets started flyin\n[03:35.36] Now I'm hittin all them bastards\n[03:38.05] I'm droppin em fast, splashin blood out niggaz asses\n[03:40.79] Then I'm finally done and\n[03:43.42] I took em all out, but I caught one in the stomach\n[03:46.16] Now I'm lookin for survivors\n[03:47.97] So I ran up on the side of the car, and hit the driver\n[03:51.65] And then I laid low\n[03:53.46] The only motherfucker left was Don Luciano\n[03:57.00] So I snuck up the sucker\n[03:58.87] Put my gun to his head, \"Whassup now motherfucker?\"\n[04:02.43] He said, \"Wait, I want to talk\"\n[04:04.20] *five gunshots* I put his brains on the sidewalk\n[04:07.87] Another life I had to waste\n[04:09.65] He fell on his back, and then I spit right in his guinea face\n[04:13.22] He saw the barrel of the devil's gun\n[04:16.00] Now I'm no longer on the motherfuckin run\n[04:18.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: On the Run\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 280000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I got a job with the mob, makin G's\n  start_ms: 960\n  end_ms: 12670\n- text: Doin some pickups, deliveries and transportin keys\n  start_ms: 12670\n  end_ms: 16370\n- text: Yeah they got me like a flunkie\n  start_ms: 16370\n  end_ms: 19030\n- text: I'm ridin around with ten kilos inside my trunk G\n  start_ms: 19030\n  end_ms: 22600\n- text: And I'm holdin the suitcase\n  start_ms: 22600\n  end_ms: 24430\n- text: with a half a million dollars right in my motherfuckin face\n  start_ms: 24430\n  end_ms: 27100\n- text: And I'm tryin to ignore it\n  start_ms: 27100\n  end_ms: 29820\n- text: But sometimes I get tempted to make a motherfuckin run for it\n  start_ms: 29820\n  end_ms: 33430\n- text: The thought alone makes me shiver, damn\n  start_ms: 33430\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: What if I get caught? They'll find me floatin in the Hudson river\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37940\n- text: But if I escape, I'll be in shape for my life\n  start_ms: 37940\n  end_ms: 40610\n- text: but they might, get my kid and my wife\n  start_ms: 40610\n  end_ms: 43460\n- text: See I'm supposed to make a stop\n  start_ms: 43460\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: to an Uptown spot, run up the block and make another drop\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 48860\n- text: But I got somethin else in mind\n  start_ms: 48860\n  end_ms: 50690\n- text: Cause I'm sick of puttin my motherfuckin ass on the line\n  start_ms: 50690\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: I got the money and the hit\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 56050\n- text: Went through the Brook nonstop cause I ain't droppin off shit\n  start_ms: 56050\n  end_ms: 59680\n- text: Then I thought of a plan\n  start_ms: 59680\n  end_ms: 61440\n- text: So I droves to my house and got my girl and my little man\n  start_ms: 61440\n  end_ms: 65020\n- text: C'mon bitch, pack the shit, get ready\n  start_ms: 65020\n  end_ms: 66920\n- text: '\"God damn why your face all sweaty?\"'\n  start_ms: 66920\n  end_ms: 70580\n- text: Just hurry up and get the shit\n  start_ms: 70580\n  end_ms: 72370\n- text: I'm a dead man bitch, understand, we gotta split\n  start_ms: 72370\n  end_ms: 75040\n- text: I switched the locks on the door\n  start_ms: 75040\n  end_ms: 77760\n- text: Started packin like I was goin on a motherfuckin world tour\n  start_ms: 77760\n  end_ms: 81450\n- text: Grabbed my bags and my gun\n  start_ms: 81450\n  end_ms: 83240\n- text: C'mon we gotta go... I'm on the motherfuckin run\n  start_ms: 83240\n  end_ms: 85900\n- text: Now I'm drivin and I'm lookin at my passport\n  start_ms: 85900\n  end_ms: 99560\n- text: I'm outta here soon as my ass hit the airport\n  start_ms: 99560\n  end_ms: 102210\n- text: I loaded up the automatic\n  start_ms: 102210\n  end_ms: 104970\n- text: I don't believe this shit, I'm stuck in motherfuckin traffic\n  start_ms: 104970\n  end_ms: 108530\n- text: I'm gettin nervous as a fuck see\n  start_ms: 108530\n  end_ms: 110480\n- text: A Lincoln Continental pullin right up beside me\n  start_ms: 110480\n  end_ms: 113110\n- text: Puts down my bitch and then I bent low\n  start_ms: 113110\n  end_ms: 115940\n- text: '*gunfire, breaking glass* Bullets are flying through my window'\n  start_ms: 115940\n  end_ms: 118620\n- text: The enemy is on attack\n  start_ms: 118620\n  end_ms: 121310\n- text: Drew the nine and cocked the hammer and I fired at the bitches back\n  start_ms: 121310\n  end_ms: 124060\n- text: I gotta take my respect\n  start_ms: 124060\n  end_ms: 125860\n- text: My bullets hittin italian motherfuckers in the neck\n  start_ms: 125860\n  end_ms: 129450\n- text: Looked at my bitch a bullet struck her\n  start_ms: 129450\n  end_ms: 132120\n- text: Put in another clip, cause I ain't givin up a motherfucker\n  start_ms: 132120\n  end_ms: 134870\n- text: Niggaz runnin up in trenches\n  start_ms: 134870\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: Sprayin at my car, only missin me by fuckin inches\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 140290\n- text: Stepped on the gas pedal, how bad my bitch is harmed?\n  start_ms: 140290\n  end_ms: 143940\n- text: Shit they only hit her in the fuckin arm\n  start_ms: 143940\n  end_ms: 145720\n- text: Now I'm drivin off sidewalks, makin sharp turns\n  start_ms: 145720\n  end_ms: 148470\n- text: My son is catchin motherfuckin heartburns\n  start_ms: 148470\n  end_ms: 151190\n- text: I got the car shakin wildly\n  start_ms: 151190\n  end_ms: 152900\n- text: I made a turn, and then I dipped my shit into a dark alley\n  start_ms: 152900\n  end_ms: 156510\n- text: They drove right past, now all this chasin shit is done\n  start_ms: 156510\n  end_ms: 159220\n- text: I'm on the motherfuckin run\n  start_ms: 159220\n  end_ms: 161920\n- text: The next thing I know, it was daylight\n  start_ms: 161920\n  end_ms: 174600\n- text: And I been sleepin in this motherfucker all night\n  start_ms: 174600\n  end_ms: 178390\n- text: I started pullin on my hoe\n  start_ms: 178390\n  end_ms: 180160\n- text: '\"C''mon man what?\" Wake up bitch, we gotta go!'\n  start_ms: 180160\n  end_ms: 182860\n- text: Pulled out the alley, then I dipped\n  start_ms: 182860\n  end_ms: 185540\n- text: Looked down and picked up the nine and put more rounds in the clip\n  start_ms: 185540\n  end_ms: 188210\n- text: You know I'm headin South no doubt\n  start_ms: 188210\n  end_ms: 190970\n- text: And I don't give a fuck where, as long it's a hideout\n  start_ms: 190970\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Finally we crossed the border, I pulled into a station\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 197220\n- text: to fill up the tank, and get a drink of water\n  start_ms: 197220\n  end_ms: 199940\n- text: Pullin over to park my ride\n  start_ms: 199940\n  end_ms: 201840\n- text: That's when I noticed this limousine comin up on my left side\n  start_ms: 201840\n  end_ms: 205410\n- text: Then the sucker started rammin me\n  start_ms: 205410\n  end_ms: 207250\n- text: Then I looked, it was the Luciano family\n  start_ms: 207250\n  end_ms: 209980\n- text: Looked at my bitch she started cryin, my finger on the trigger\n  start_ms: 209980\n  end_ms: 213530\n- text: I pulled it -- bullets started flyin\n  start_ms: 213530\n  end_ms: 215360\n- text: Now I'm hittin all them bastards\n  start_ms: 215360\n  end_ms: 218050\n- text: I'm droppin em fast, splashin blood out niggaz asses\n  start_ms: 218050\n  end_ms: 220790\n- text: Then I'm finally done and\n  start_ms: 220790\n  end_ms: 223420\n- text: I took em all out, but I caught one in the stomach\n  start_ms: 223420\n  end_ms: 226160\n- text: Now I'm lookin for survivors\n  start_ms: 226160\n  end_ms: 227970\n- text: So I ran up on the side of the car, and hit the driver\n  start_ms: 227970\n  end_ms: 231650\n- text: And then I laid low\n  start_ms: 231650\n  end_ms: 233460\n- text: The only motherfucker left was Don Luciano\n  start_ms: 233460\n  end_ms: 237000\n- text: So I snuck up the sucker\n  start_ms: 237000\n  end_ms: 238870\n- text: Put my gun to his head, \"Whassup now motherfucker?\"\n  start_ms: 238870\n  end_ms: 242430\n- text: He said, \"Wait, I want to talk\"\n  start_ms: 242430\n  end_ms: 244200\n- text: '*five gunshots* I put his brains on the sidewalk'\n  start_ms: 244200\n  end_ms: 247870\n- text: Another life I had to waste\n  start_ms: 247870\n  end_ms: 249650\n- text: He fell on his back, and then I spit right in his guinea face\n  start_ms: 249650\n  end_ms: 253220\n- text: He saw the barrel of the devil's gun\n  start_ms: 253220\n  end_ms: 256000\n- text: Now I'm no longer on the motherfuckin run\n  start_ms: 256000\n  end_ms: 258750\nplain: |-\n  I got a job with the mob, makin G's\n  Doin some pickups, deliveries and transportin keys\n  Yeah they got me like a flunkie\n  I'm ridin around with ten kilos inside my trunk G\n  And I'm holdin the suitcase\n  With a half a million dollars right in my motherfuckin face\n  And I'm tryin to ignore it\n  But sometimes I get tempted to make a motherfuckin run for it\n  The thought alone makes me shiver, damn\n  What if I get caught? They'll find me floatin in the Hudson river\n  But if I escape, I'll be in shape for my life\n  But they might, get my kid and my wife\n  See I'm supposed to make a stop\n  To an Uptown spot, run up the block and make another drop\n  But I got somethin else in mind\n  Cause I'm sick of puttin my motherfuckin ass on the line\n  I got the money and the hit\n  Went through the Brook nonstop cause I ain't droppin off shit\n  Then I thought of a plan\n  So I droves to my house and got my girl and my little man\n  C'mon bitch, pack the shit, get ready\n  \"God damn why your face all sweaty?\"\n  Just hurry up and get the shit\n  I'm a dead man bitch, understand, we gotta split\n  I switched the locks on the door\n  Started packin like I was goin on a motherfuckin world tour\n  Grabbed my bags and my gun\n  C'mon we gotta go... I'm on the motherfuckin run\n\n  Now I'm drivin and I'm lookin at my passport\n  I'm outta here soon as my ass hit the airport\n  I loaded up the automatic\n  I don't believe this shit, I'm stuck in motherfuckin traffic\n  I'm gettin nervous as a fuck see\n  A Lincoln Continental pullin right up beside me\n  Puts down my bitch and then I bent low\n  *Gunfire, breaking glass* Bullets are flying through my window\n  The enemy is on attack\n  Drew the nine and cocked the hammer and I fired at the bitches back\n  I gotta take my respect\n  My bullets hittin italian motherfuckers in the neck\n  Looked at my bitch a bullet struck her\n  Put in another clip, cause I ain't givin up a motherfucker\n  Niggaz runnin up in trenches\n  Sprayin at my car, only missin me by fuckin inches\n  Stepped on the gas pedal, how bad my bitch is harmed?\n  Shit they only hit her in the fuckin arm\n  Now I'm drivin off sidewalks, makin sharp turns\n  My son is catchin motherfuckin heartburns\n  I got the car shakin wildly\n  I made a turn, and then I dipped my shit into a dark alley\n  They drove right past, now all this chasin shit is done\n  I'm on the motherfuckin run\n\n  The next thing I know, it was daylight\n  And I been sleepin in this motherfucker all night\n  I started pullin on my hoe\n  \"C'mon man what?\" Wake up bitch, we gotta go!\n  Pulled out the alley, then I dipped\n  Looked down and picked up the nine and put more rounds in the clip\n  You know I'm headin South no doubt\n  And I don't give a fuck where, as long it's a hideout\n  Finally we crossed the border, I pulled into a station\n  To fill up the tank, and get a drink of water\n  Pullin over to park my ride\n  That's when I noticed this limousine comin up on my left side\n  Then the sucker started rammin me\n  Then I looked, it was the Luciano family\n  Looked at my bitch she started cryin, my finger on the trigger\n  I pulled it -- bullets started flyin\n  Now I'm hittin all them bastards\n  I'm droppin em fast, splashin blood out niggaz asses\n  Then I'm finally done and\n  I took em all out, but I caught one in the stomach\n  Now I'm lookin for survivors\n  So I ran up on the side of the car, and hit the driver\n  And then I laid low\n  The only motherfucker left was Don Luciano\n  So I snuck up the sucker\n  Put my gun to his head, \"Whassup now motherfucker?\"\n  He said, \"Wait, I want to talk\"\n  *Five gunshots* I put his brains on the sidewalk\n  Another life I had to waste\n  He fell on his back, and then I spit right in his guinea face\n  He saw the barrel of the devil's gun\n  Now I'm no longer on the motherfuckin run\n"},{"id":1042872,"name":"Ill Street Blues","trackName":"Ill Street Blues","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":226.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Aw yeah, word up, word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all.\nWe going to swing it like this...\n\nI'm right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan\nLooking like Raggedy Ann, no dough in hand kicking a can\nThinking of a plot to pull some bank in\nBecause I'm dead and stinking\nSoles on my shoes winking, t-shirt is shrinking\nSoon I see some ties and my eyes open wide quick\nWho's that with you, chick? Bill Blass my sidekick\nWhat's up, black? Give his hand a smack\nThen up pulls a Cadillac, yo baby we'll be back\nJumped right on inside, not too many people saw us\nThinking about who gotta get robbed because the mob got a job for us\nThe drove us down to the sober section\nOf town where the clowns don't be paying for protection\nThe want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender\nLend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders\nHe's coming up short cause he snorts\nCoke, dope, nope, and hope he don't get caught\nHe owes some Benjamin Franklins, every last bit of em\nBut Jimmy's pockets are empty, so now we gotta get rid of him\nBut Jimmy's wife is with him and they don't want to involve her\nHopped out the back seat they gave me a revolver\nBlass, you distract him while I go and whack him\nEntered through the back side of the bar and then attacked him\nHe's screaming for his life, reaching for his wife\nShot him in the back of the head and shanked him with a knife\n\nAnd that goes for anybody that gotta pay they dues\n\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\nSuckers I clobber, because my town is full of cops and robbers\nYou're not promised tomorrow in this Little Shop of Horrors\nSo I got to get with the business of hit quick\nMoneygrip's pocket's looking thick so I stick Slick\nHold it right here, hands in the air, I know you got the loot\nOr better yet, face down on the ground, empty your pockets troop\nHit the deck I got the Tech right on your neck\nAnd I expect to make a buck to heck with a traveller's check\nBut if a vic' tries to choke me\nI'll have to smoke him like I'm Smokey the Bear, so okie dokie\nGoodbye, or bon voyage, have a good journey\nDon't even try begging for your life, that don't concern me\nSo to the next weasel that freezes\n\nYour begging and your pleases only getting your closer to meeting Jesus\n\nYeah, I shake a schmuck just to make a buck\nThen I break a duck and if the duck gotta get bucked then I don't give a fuck\nHyper as a sniper piping niggas like a plumber\nCold vicking and sticking up the ones that run the numbers\nOr even a bigger score, the lady in the liquor store\n\nGo inside and kick in the door, pull her then I'm stickin her for\nMoney or your life, honey hurry and choose\nBut you lose, because I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\nExtra extra read all about it in the papers\nThe boss tried to rape us, so we tossed him off the skyscraper\nBecause he pulled some other people to try and hit us\nGet us, but none of them did us, he must be trying to kid us\n\nBut that's dead, I'll thank God in the red, 'cross the bread borders\nSo nobody can short us, he fled down to headquarters\nReady to put some work in, we're not a lazy crew, we'll do a job or two\nBut yo, the man can't even stick me with some Crazy Glue\nReady to tore him even more because she saw him\n\nWe took out all the lookouts in the front and kicked his door in\nWhat's up snake, why'd you violate?\nBecause I'm a hossa (What's that?)\nYo, that's a pig that don't fly straight\nGetting ready to jab him, I grabbed him by the necktie\nHomie tried to get fly, and swing I gave him a decked eye\nYou know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go\nWe snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window\nUp, up, and away cause I don't play, clown\nBuck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down\nI'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes\nBut you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues\n\nYou lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues","syncedLyrics":"[00:08.46] Aw yeah, word up, word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all.\n[00:14.08] We going to swing it like this...\n[00:16.64] I'm right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan\n[00:19.38] Looking like Raggedy Ann, no dough in hand kicking a can\n[00:22.12] Thinking of a plot to pull some bank in\n[00:24.25] Because I'm dead and stinking\n[00:25.56] Soles on my shoes winking, t-shirt is shrinking\n[00:27.61] Soon I see some ties and my eyes open wide quick\n[00:30.45] Who's that with you, chick? Bill Blass my sidekick\n[00:32.95] What's up, black? Give his hand a smack\n[00:35.53] Then up pulls a Cadillac, yo baby we'll be back\n[00:38.19] Jumped right on inside, not too many people saw us\n[00:40.94] Thinking about who gotta get robbed because the mob got a job for us\n[00:44.19] The drove us down to the sober section\n[00:46.32] Of town where the clowns don't be paying for protection\n[00:49.14] The want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender\n[00:51.88] Lend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders\n[00:54.85] He's coming up short cause he snorts\n[00:57.23] Coke, dope, nope, and hope he don't get caught\n[00:59.93] He owes some Benjamin Franklins, every last bit of em\n[01:02.38] But Jimmy's pockets are empty, so now we gotta get rid of him\n[01:05.35] But Jimmy's wife is with him and they don't want to involve her\n[01:08.15] Hopped out the back seat they gave me a revolver\n[01:10.97] Blass, you distract him while I go and whack him\n[01:13.62] Entered through the back side of the bar and then attacked him\n[01:16.21] He's screaming for his life, reaching for his wife\n[01:18.71] Shot him in the back of the head and shanked him with a knife\n[01:21.54] And that goes for anybody that gotta pay they dues\n[01:24.16] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[01:26.82] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[01:29.52] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[01:32.23] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[01:34.81] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[01:37.27] Suckers I clobber, because my town is full of cops and robbers\n[01:40.32] You're not promised tomorrow in this Little Shop of Horrors\n[01:43.03] So I got to get with the business of hit quick\n[01:45.93] Moneygrip's pocket's looking thick so I stick Slick\n[01:48.58] Hold it right here, hands in the air, I know you got the loot\n[01:51.45] Or better yet, face down on the ground, empty your pockets troop\n[01:54.09] Hit the deck I got the Tech right on your neck\n[01:56.34] And I expect to make a buck to heck with a traveller's check\n[01:59.59] But if a vic' tries to choke me\n[02:02.07] I'll have to smoke him like I'm Smokey the Bear, so okie dokie\n[02:04.78] Goodbye, or bon voyage, have a good journey\n[02:07.38] Don't even try begging for your life, that don't concern me\n[02:10.00] So to the next weasel that freezes\n[02:12.33] Your begging and your pleases only getting your closer to meeting Jesus\n[02:15.48] Yeah, I shake a schmuck just to make a buck\n[02:18.06] Then I break a duck and if the duck gotta get bucked then I don't give a fuck\n[02:21.06] Hyper as a sniper piping niggas like a plumber\n[02:23.41] Cold vicking and sticking up the ones that run the numbers\n[02:26.14] Or even a bigger score, the lady in the liquor store\n[02:28.92] Go inside and kick in the door, pull her then I'm stickin her for\n[02:31.77] Money or your life, honey hurry and choose\n[02:33.62] But you lose, because I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[02:36.85] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[02:39.58] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[02:42.23] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[02:45.19] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[02:47.45] Extra extra read all about it in the papers\n[02:50.26] The boss tried to rape us, so we tossed him off the skyscraper\n[02:53.31] Because he pulled some other people to try and hit us\n[02:56.08] Get us, but none of them did us, he must be trying to kid us\n[02:58.57] But that's dead, I'll thank God in the red, 'cross the bread borders\n[03:01.39] So nobody can short us, he fled down to headquarters\n[03:04.21] Ready to put some work in, we're not a lazy crew, we'll do a job or two\n[03:06.90] But yo, the man can't even stick me with some Crazy Glue\n[03:09.52] Ready to tore him even more because she saw him\n[03:12.39] We took out all the lookouts in the front and kicked his door in\n[03:14.76] What's up snake, why'd you violate?\n[03:16.82] Because I'm a hossa (What's that?)\n[03:18.83] Yo, that's a pig that don't fly straight\n[03:20.25] Getting ready to jab him, I grabbed him by the necktie\n[03:22.80] Homie tried to get fly, and swing I gave him a decked eye\n[03:25.41] You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go\n[03:28.24] We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window\n[03:30.90] Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown\n[03:33.44] Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down\n[03:36.12] I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes\n[03:38.77] But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues\n[03:41.51] You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n[03:44.93] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Ill Street Blues\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 226000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Aw yeah, word up, word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all.\n  start_ms: 8460\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: We going to swing it like this...\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16640\n- text: I'm right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan\n  start_ms: 16640\n  end_ms: 19380\n- text: Looking like Raggedy Ann, no dough in hand kicking a can\n  start_ms: 19380\n  end_ms: 22120\n- text: Thinking of a plot to pull some bank in\n  start_ms: 22120\n  end_ms: 24250\n- text: Because I'm dead and stinking\n  start_ms: 24250\n  end_ms: 25560\n- text: Soles on my shoes winking, t-shirt is shrinking\n  start_ms: 25560\n  end_ms: 27610\n- text: Soon I see some ties and my eyes open wide quick\n  start_ms: 27610\n  end_ms: 30450\n- text: Who's that with you, chick? Bill Blass my sidekick\n  start_ms: 30450\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: What's up, black? Give his hand a smack\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 35530\n- text: Then up pulls a Cadillac, yo baby we'll be back\n  start_ms: 35530\n  end_ms: 38190\n- text: Jumped right on inside, not too many people saw us\n  start_ms: 38190\n  end_ms: 40940\n- text: Thinking about who gotta get robbed because the mob got a job for us\n  start_ms: 40940\n  end_ms: 44190\n- text: The drove us down to the sober section\n  start_ms: 44190\n  end_ms: 46320\n- text: Of town where the clowns don't be paying for protection\n  start_ms: 46320\n  end_ms: 49140\n- text: The want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender\n  start_ms: 49140\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Lend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54850\n- text: He's coming up short cause he snorts\n  start_ms: 54850\n  end_ms: 57230\n- text: Coke, dope, nope, and hope he don't get caught\n  start_ms: 57230\n  end_ms: 59930\n- text: He owes some Benjamin Franklins, every last bit of em\n  start_ms: 59930\n  end_ms: 62380\n- text: But Jimmy's pockets are empty, so now we gotta get rid of him\n  start_ms: 62380\n  end_ms: 65350\n- text: But Jimmy's wife is with him and they don't want to involve her\n  start_ms: 65350\n  end_ms: 68150\n- text: Hopped out the back seat they gave me a revolver\n  start_ms: 68150\n  end_ms: 70970\n- text: Blass, you distract him while I go and whack him\n  start_ms: 70970\n  end_ms: 73620\n- text: Entered through the back side of the bar and then attacked him\n  start_ms: 73620\n  end_ms: 76210\n- text: He's screaming for his life, reaching for his wife\n  start_ms: 76210\n  end_ms: 78710\n- text: Shot him in the back of the head and shanked him with a knife\n  start_ms: 78710\n  end_ms: 81540\n- text: And that goes for anybody that gotta pay they dues\n  start_ms: 81540\n  end_ms: 84160\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 84160\n  end_ms: 86820\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 86820\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92230\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 92230\n  end_ms: 94810\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 94810\n  end_ms: 97270\n- text: Suckers I clobber, because my town is full of cops and robbers\n  start_ms: 97270\n  end_ms: 100320\n- text: You're not promised tomorrow in this Little Shop of Horrors\n  start_ms: 100320\n  end_ms: 103030\n- text: So I got to get with the business of hit quick\n  start_ms: 103030\n  end_ms: 105930\n- text: Moneygrip's pocket's looking thick so I stick Slick\n  start_ms: 105930\n  end_ms: 108580\n- text: Hold it right here, hands in the air, I know you got the loot\n  start_ms: 108580\n  end_ms: 111450\n- text: Or better yet, face down on the ground, empty your pockets troop\n  start_ms: 111450\n  end_ms: 114090\n- text: Hit the deck I got the Tech right on your neck\n  start_ms: 114090\n  end_ms: 116340\n- text: And I expect to make a buck to heck with a traveller's check\n  start_ms: 116340\n  end_ms: 119590\n- text: But if a vic' tries to choke me\n  start_ms: 119590\n  end_ms: 122070\n- text: I'll have to smoke him like I'm Smokey the Bear, so okie dokie\n  start_ms: 122070\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Goodbye, or bon voyage, have a good journey\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127380\n- text: Don't even try begging for your life, that don't concern me\n  start_ms: 127380\n  end_ms: 130000\n- text: So to the next weasel that freezes\n  start_ms: 130000\n  end_ms: 132330\n- text: Your begging and your pleases only getting your closer to meeting Jesus\n  start_ms: 132330\n  end_ms: 135480\n- text: Yeah, I shake a schmuck just to make a buck\n  start_ms: 135480\n  end_ms: 138060\n- text: Then I break a duck and if the duck gotta get bucked then I don't give a fuck\n  start_ms: 138060\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: Hyper as a sniper piping niggas like a plumber\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 143410\n- text: Cold vicking and sticking up the ones that run the numbers\n  start_ms: 143410\n  end_ms: 146140\n- text: Or even a bigger score, the lady in the liquor store\n  start_ms: 146140\n  end_ms: 148920\n- text: Go inside and kick in the door, pull her then I'm stickin her for\n  start_ms: 148920\n  end_ms: 151770\n- text: Money or your life, honey hurry and choose\n  start_ms: 151770\n  end_ms: 153620\n- text: But you lose, because I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 153620\n  end_ms: 156850\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 156850\n  end_ms: 159580\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 159580\n  end_ms: 162230\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 162230\n  end_ms: 165190\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 165190\n  end_ms: 167450\n- text: Extra extra read all about it in the papers\n  start_ms: 167450\n  end_ms: 170260\n- text: The boss tried to rape us, so we tossed him off the skyscraper\n  start_ms: 170260\n  end_ms: 173310\n- text: Because he pulled some other people to try and hit us\n  start_ms: 173310\n  end_ms: 176080\n- text: Get us, but none of them did us, he must be trying to kid us\n  start_ms: 176080\n  end_ms: 178570\n- text: But that's dead, I'll thank God in the red, 'cross the bread borders\n  start_ms: 178570\n  end_ms: 181390\n- text: So nobody can short us, he fled down to headquarters\n  start_ms: 181390\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Ready to put some work in, we're not a lazy crew, we'll do a job or two\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 186900\n- text: But yo, the man can't even stick me with some Crazy Glue\n  start_ms: 186900\n  end_ms: 189520\n- text: Ready to tore him even more because she saw him\n  start_ms: 189520\n  end_ms: 192390\n- text: We took out all the lookouts in the front and kicked his door in\n  start_ms: 192390\n  end_ms: 194760\n- text: What's up snake, why'd you violate?\n  start_ms: 194760\n  end_ms: 196820\n- text: Because I'm a hossa (What's that?)\n  start_ms: 196820\n  end_ms: 198830\n- text: Yo, that's a pig that don't fly straight\n  start_ms: 198830\n  end_ms: 200250\n- text: Getting ready to jab him, I grabbed him by the necktie\n  start_ms: 200250\n  end_ms: 202800\n- text: Homie tried to get fly, and swing I gave him a decked eye\n  start_ms: 202800\n  end_ms: 205410\n- text: You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go\n  start_ms: 205410\n  end_ms: 208240\n- text: We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window\n  start_ms: 208240\n  end_ms: 210900\n- text: Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown\n  start_ms: 210900\n  end_ms: 213440\n- text: Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down\n  start_ms: 213440\n  end_ms: 216120\n- text: I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes\n  start_ms: 216120\n  end_ms: 218770\n- text: But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 218770\n  end_ms: 221510\n- text: You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  start_ms: 221510\n  end_ms: 224930\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 224930\nplain: |-\n  Aw yeah, word up, word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all.\n  We going to swing it like this...\n\n  I'm right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan\n  Looking like Raggedy Ann, no dough in hand kicking a can\n  Thinking of a plot to pull some bank in\n  Because I'm dead and stinking\n  Soles on my shoes winking, t-shirt is shrinking\n  Soon I see some ties and my eyes open wide quick\n  Who's that with you, chick? Bill Blass my sidekick\n  What's up, black? Give his hand a smack\n  Then up pulls a Cadillac, yo baby we'll be back\n  Jumped right on inside, not too many people saw us\n  Thinking about who gotta get robbed because the mob got a job for us\n  The drove us down to the sober section\n  Of town where the clowns don't be paying for protection\n  The want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender\n  Lend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders\n  He's coming up short cause he snorts\n  Coke, dope, nope, and hope he don't get caught\n  He owes some Benjamin Franklins, every last bit of em\n  But Jimmy's pockets are empty, so now we gotta get rid of him\n  But Jimmy's wife is with him and they don't want to involve her\n  Hopped out the back seat they gave me a revolver\n  Blass, you distract him while I go and whack him\n  Entered through the back side of the bar and then attacked him\n  He's screaming for his life, reaching for his wife\n  Shot him in the back of the head and shanked him with a knife\n\n  And that goes for anybody that gotta pay they dues\n\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\n  Suckers I clobber, because my town is full of cops and robbers\n  You're not promised tomorrow in this Little Shop of Horrors\n  So I got to get with the business of hit quick\n  Moneygrip's pocket's looking thick so I stick Slick\n  Hold it right here, hands in the air, I know you got the loot\n  Or better yet, face down on the ground, empty your pockets troop\n  Hit the deck I got the Tech right on your neck\n  And I expect to make a buck to heck with a traveller's check\n  But if a vic' tries to choke me\n  I'll have to smoke him like I'm Smokey the Bear, so okie dokie\n  Goodbye, or bon voyage, have a good journey\n  Don't even try begging for your life, that don't concern me\n  So to the next weasel that freezes\n\n  Your begging and your pleases only getting your closer to meeting Jesus\n\n  Yeah, I shake a schmuck just to make a buck\n  Then I break a duck and if the duck gotta get bucked then I don't give a fuck\n  Hyper as a sniper piping niggas like a plumber\n  Cold vicking and sticking up the ones that run the numbers\n  Or even a bigger score, the lady in the liquor store\n\n  Go inside and kick in the door, pull her then I'm stickin her for\n  Money or your life, honey hurry and choose\n  But you lose, because I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n\n  Extra extra read all about it in the papers\n  The boss tried to rape us, so we tossed him off the skyscraper\n  Because he pulled some other people to try and hit us\n  Get us, but none of them did us, he must be trying to kid us\n\n  But that's dead, I'll thank God in the red, 'cross the bread borders\n  So nobody can short us, he fled down to headquarters\n  Ready to put some work in, we're not a lazy crew, we'll do a job or two\n  But yo, the man can't even stick me with some Crazy Glue\n  Ready to tore him even more because she saw him\n\n  We took out all the lookouts in the front and kicked his door in\n  What's up snake, why'd you violate?\n  Because I'm a hossa (What's that?)\n  Yo, that's a pig that don't fly straight\n  Getting ready to jab him, I grabbed him by the necktie\n  Homie tried to get fly, and swing I gave him a decked eye\n  You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go\n  We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window\n  Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown\n  Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down\n  I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes\n  But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues\n\n  You lose, cause I gots the Ill Street Blues\n"},{"id":30439525,"name":"Fuck U Man","trackName":"Fuck U Man","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":246.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus from \"Talk Like Sex\" begins] (\"Can ya dig it honey...?\")\n\nSince I made the record \"Talk Like Sex,\"\nBitches are comin' up with their friends for a nigga to hit the skins.\nHopin' the Kool G Rap was just makin' rhymes,\nBut I'm leavin' bitches' vaginas with more stitches than Frankenstein.\nSome even had the nerve to try to give me head,\nAnd swallow the whole jimmy to make a nigga fed.\nBut come on you bitches, don't make me laugh;\nYou couldn't deep throat G Rap if you was a motherfuckin' giraffe.\nDag, some even fled when they saw the head,\n'Cause G's dick would make you seasick fuckin' me in a waterbed.\nDon't try to paly me like no sucker,\n'Cause these bitches'll be callin' up Dial-a-Mattress like a motherfucker.\nYou heard the song before; you don't wanna see me,\n\"I'll fuck you on the A-train while I write graffiti.\"\nI'll even fuck you in a taxi cab,\nAnd after sex with a nigga you'll be buyin' a box of maxi-pads.\nSoon as you open your legs,\nNo need for no birth control, bitch, 'cause my dick is touchin' the eggs.\nKool G Rap, the pussy slammer;\nHell, I'd be talkin' fucked up grammar if you was Bad Mamma Jamma.\nI ain't small, I'll have you cummin' like waterfalls,\nAnd then turn them sugar walls into Carnegie Hall.\nLeavin' my mark on bitches like Zorro,\nPlus fuckin' bitches so def like there won't be no pussy left tomorrow.\nHittin' hoes like it ain't funny,\nI think about bowls of Cheerios because I want my nuts and honey.\nTalkin' to all the women that look fine,\nPretendin' my prick was Moby Dick and have a whale of a time.\nNow I'm not a deep-sea diver,\nBut I love it when my dick's covered and smothered with saliva.\nShit, might even straighten out your dentures,\nBecause it's not just a blow job, honey, it's an adventure.\nBut 69, and I ain't with that:\nI'll go to a Chinese restaurant, bitch, if I wanna eat cats.\nBecause you gotta be brave to eat the tuna, G.\nSo when it comes to pussy-lickin', I'm the chicken of the sea.\nI should be on the sex channel;\nNot a chump 'cause I'm givin' punk-bitches better humps than camels.\nIf you're a virgin, I'll make it fit,\nBecause my dick'll pop the cherry and spit out the fuckin' pit.\nAnd if you're concerned, my sperm don't burn,\nAnd if it did, I'd give that nappy-headed ass a fuckin' perm.\nShucks, I instruct a fuckin' lesson.\nYou think it's painless? I hit the anus and fuck up your large intestines.\nLeavin' you bitches stingin' from the bangin';\nMy man Jimmy got a hole in his head, but yo, that nigga's still hangin'.\nBitch, you'd rather hump a fuckin' whole army,\n'Cause even the Witness Protection Program couldn't hide this man's salami.\nYou fuck around and catch a seizure,\nBefore I fuck a hoe I gots ta put the hooker under anesthesia.\nLettin' saliva dribble on your nipple,\nOrgasms double and triple sit ripple and turn your ass into a gripple.\nThen I see you searchin' for the swellin',\n'Cause I'm-a leave a hole so big your gynecologist might fall the hell in.\nGot damn! I hit the ham right;\nHoneybuns, you can ask my Three Sons, I got the Dick right out the Van Dyke.\nI'm fuckin' naked girls with fly rhymes,\nBut don't push me, because that pussy will be runnin' for it's nine lives.\nI know you hookers can't refuse this,\nBut dont' pick me to give no hickeys 'cause I'm givin' bitches bruises.\nYeah, I'll tear that pussy hole apart,\nFor fuckin' with G Rap after dark, you'd rather jog in Central Park.\nSo if you want kids before I fuck ya,\nLook at the size of my dick, and you'll let out the motherfuckers.\nShit, bitches get open like a can;\nJust leave it up to G Rap, 'cause I'm the neighborhood Fuck U Man...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fuck U Man\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 246000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus from \"Talk Like Sex\" begins] (\"Can ya dig it honey...?\")\n\n  Since I made the record \"Talk Like Sex,\"\n  Bitches are comin' up with their friends for a nigga to hit the skins.\n  Hopin' the Kool G Rap was just makin' rhymes,\n  But I'm leavin' bitches' vaginas with more stitches than Frankenstein.\n  Some even had the nerve to try to give me head,\n  And swallow the whole jimmy to make a nigga fed.\n  But come on you bitches, don't make me laugh;\n  You couldn't deep throat G Rap if you was a motherfuckin' giraffe.\n  Dag, some even fled when they saw the head,\n  'Cause G's dick would make you seasick fuckin' me in a waterbed.\n  Don't try to paly me like no sucker,\n  'Cause these bitches'll be callin' up Dial-a-Mattress like a motherfucker.\n  You heard the song before; you don't wanna see me,\n  \"I'll fuck you on the A-train while I write graffiti.\"\n  I'll even fuck you in a taxi cab,\n  And after sex with a nigga you'll be buyin' a box of maxi-pads.\n  Soon as you open your legs,\n  No need for no birth control, bitch, 'cause my dick is touchin' the eggs.\n  Kool G Rap, the pussy slammer;\n  Hell, I'd be talkin' fucked up grammar if you was Bad Mamma Jamma.\n  I ain't small, I'll have you cummin' like waterfalls,\n  And then turn them sugar walls into Carnegie Hall.\n  Leavin' my mark on bitches like Zorro,\n  Plus fuckin' bitches so def like there won't be no pussy left tomorrow.\n  Hittin' hoes like it ain't funny,\n  I think about bowls of Cheerios because I want my nuts and honey.\n  Talkin' to all the women that look fine,\n  Pretendin' my prick was Moby Dick and have a whale of a time.\n  Now I'm not a deep-sea diver,\n  But I love it when my dick's covered and smothered with saliva.\n  Shit, might even straighten out your dentures,\n  Because it's not just a blow job, honey, it's an adventure.\n  But 69, and I ain't with that:\n  I'll go to a Chinese restaurant, bitch, if I wanna eat cats.\n  Because you gotta be brave to eat the tuna, G.\n  So when it comes to pussy-lickin', I'm the chicken of the sea.\n  I should be on the sex channel;\n  Not a chump 'cause I'm givin' punk-bitches better humps than camels.\n  If you're a virgin, I'll make it fit,\n  Because my dick'll pop the cherry and spit out the fuckin' pit.\n  And if you're concerned, my sperm don't burn,\n  And if it did, I'd give that nappy-headed ass a fuckin' perm.\n  Shucks, I instruct a fuckin' lesson.\n  You think it's painless? I hit the anus and fuck up your large intestines.\n  Leavin' you bitches stingin' from the bangin';\n  My man Jimmy got a hole in his head, but yo, that nigga's still hangin'.\n  Bitch, you'd rather hump a fuckin' whole army,\n  'Cause even the Witness Protection Program couldn't hide this man's salami.\n  You fuck around and catch a seizure,\n  Before I fuck a hoe I gots ta put the hooker under anesthesia.\n  Lettin' saliva dribble on your nipple,\n  Orgasms double and triple sit ripple and turn your ass into a gripple.\n  Then I see you searchin' for the swellin',\n  'Cause I'm-a leave a hole so big your gynecologist might fall the hell in.\n  Got damn! I hit the ham right;\n  Honeybuns, you can ask my Three Sons, I got the Dick right out the Van Dyke.\n  I'm fuckin' naked girls with fly rhymes,\n  But don't push me, because that pussy will be runnin' for it's nine lives.\n  I know you hookers can't refuse this,\n  But dont' pick me to give no hickeys 'cause I'm givin' bitches bruises.\n  Yeah, I'll tear that pussy hole apart,\n  For fuckin' with G Rap after dark, you'd rather jog in Central Park.\n  So if you want kids before I fuck ya,\n  Look at the size of my dick, and you'll let out the motherfuckers.\n  Shit, bitches get open like a can;\n  Just leave it up to G Rap, 'cause I'm the neighborhood Fuck U Man...\n"},{"id":31104344,"name":"Home Sweet Home","trackName":"Home Sweet Home","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":162.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Kool g. rap]\nBrothers on the corner sellin junk\nGot held up by the hotties got the shotties in the trunk\nYou got the hardrocks wavin glocks at the punks\nPolice only harass you when they wanna get a chunk\nThey got so many corners and they got so many spots\nAnd i can't even bump up the block\nWithout the \"yo man what you got?\"\nI'm walkin past somebody lookin strange\nHe's lookin for a hit for veins\nOr he'll blow out somebody's brains\nEven the shorties livin naughty lives\nWalkin around, even drive around, with big forty-fives\nI just found out the candy store's a front\nThey walk in the candy store\nMan g, candy's far from what they want\nYou might see a pickle or a popsicle\nBut if you step to the back, you get dimes, twenties, and nickels\nHoney used to look like a winner\nNow she can't even get took to dinner\nCause so many dealers ran up in her\nSomebody's blood is on the tar\nLast night was a homicide from a fight inside the bar\nLoudmouth tryin to show her ass, but somebody\nBroke a whiskey bottle and cut her butt up with the glass\nMoney got robbed for his bank\nThey broke in his house and took everything\nExcept the kitchen sink\nLittle man murdered on the scene\nHe tried to come off at the liquor store, he's only 17\nGranny's damn near pushin 80\nA couple of hoods grabbed her pocketbook, and stabbed up the lady\nCover your head, cause it's a dead zone, in the red zone\nYeah, this is my home sweet home\n\nThree card molly, another man to fool\nWhites will stop at the red lights, to look at us like animals\nI'm gettin frisked by the cops\nThey only tryin to get props, for blowin off a black man's top\nUp in apartment 3g, this sweetie named didi wants to see me\nBut yo i heard she's givin vd\nJust when you think the skies are gettin blue\n\nBang bang -- another brother's split in two\nCan't sleep, cause the streets are filled with danger\nMiss, your little daughter's a swinger, you can't change her\nShe left with a stranger, inside a drug dealer's party\nNow off to the morgue, to go indentify her body\nSonny boy is goin on the strip\nRobbin niggaz cracks, with a mac, without a clip\nSomebody gave a tip, so the next time he flipped\nAnd shorty got ragged, another bodybag is zipped\nA baby is born and needs lovin\nBut instead, the mother smothered him and shoved him in a oven\nCops killin our kids, but they bill us\nSo what's more worse, the killer cops or the cop killers\nEveryday's another risk\nI'm even mad to go to my pad, the hallways always smell like piss\nNo heat, just pots of hot water\nI'm walkin eight flights up, the elevator's out of order\nMan that landlord is the lowest\nBecause i let my door slam and saw a damn eviction notice\nI felt like breakin all his bones, pssssh\nI'm gettin kicked out of my home sweet home\n\n*Door shuts*","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Home Sweet Home\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 162000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Kool g. rap]\n  Brothers on the corner sellin junk\n  Got held up by the hotties got the shotties in the trunk\n  You got the hardrocks wavin glocks at the punks\n  Police only harass you when they wanna get a chunk\n  They got so many corners and they got so many spots\n  And i can't even bump up the block\n  Without the \"yo man what you got?\"\n  I'm walkin past somebody lookin strange\n  He's lookin for a hit for veins\n  Or he'll blow out somebody's brains\n  Even the shorties livin naughty lives\n  Walkin around, even drive around, with big forty-fives\n  I just found out the candy store's a front\n  They walk in the candy store\n  Man g, candy's far from what they want\n  You might see a pickle or a popsicle\n  But if you step to the back, you get dimes, twenties, and nickels\n  Honey used to look like a winner\n  Now she can't even get took to dinner\n  Cause so many dealers ran up in her\n  Somebody's blood is on the tar\n  Last night was a homicide from a fight inside the bar\n  Loudmouth tryin to show her ass, but somebody\n  Broke a whiskey bottle and cut her butt up with the glass\n  Money got robbed for his bank\n  They broke in his house and took everything\n  Except the kitchen sink\n  Little man murdered on the scene\n  He tried to come off at the liquor store, he's only 17\n  Granny's damn near pushin 80\n  A couple of hoods grabbed her pocketbook, and stabbed up the lady\n  Cover your head, cause it's a dead zone, in the red zone\n  Yeah, this is my home sweet home\n\n  Three card molly, another man to fool\n  Whites will stop at the red lights, to look at us like animals\n  I'm gettin frisked by the cops\n  They only tryin to get props, for blowin off a black man's top\n  Up in apartment 3g, this sweetie named didi wants to see me\n  But yo i heard she's givin vd\n  Just when you think the skies are gettin blue\n\n  Bang bang -- another brother's split in two\n  Can't sleep, cause the streets are filled with danger\n  Miss, your little daughter's a swinger, you can't change her\n  She left with a stranger, inside a drug dealer's party\n  Now off to the morgue, to go indentify her body\n  Sonny boy is goin on the strip\n  Robbin niggaz cracks, with a mac, without a clip\n  Somebody gave a tip, so the next time he flipped\n  And shorty got ragged, another bodybag is zipped\n  A baby is born and needs lovin\n  But instead, the mother smothered him and shoved him in a oven\n  Cops killin our kids, but they bill us\n  So what's more worse, the killer cops or the cop killers\n  Everyday's another risk\n  I'm even mad to go to my pad, the hallways always smell like piss\n  No heat, just pots of hot water\n  I'm walkin eight flights up, the elevator's out of order\n  Man that landlord is the lowest\n  Because i let my door slam and saw a damn eviction notice\n  I felt like breakin all his bones, pssssh\n  I'm gettin kicked out of my home sweet home\n\n  *Door shuts*\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":19533408,"name":"Nuff Said","trackName":"Nuff Said","artistName":"Kool G Rap & DJ Polo","albumName":"Live and Let Die","duration":169.777292,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Kool G. Rap]\nHere's the motherfuckin magnificent\nI'll even bag innocent motherfuckers\nSee suckers like there was ten I sent\nSo if you come in my way - great, I pull out the trey - eight\nKool G. Rap's your fate, and not your playmate\nSo all you niggaz on the floor, bitchin that shit is dead\nTell it to the motherfuckin mortician\nSo get ready to let the led out, I'm knockin niggaz dead out\nand blowin the back of your fuckin head out\nCookin niggaz better than mama's dinner\nSo let the drama enter, I'm sendin niggaz to the trauma center\nBecause I'm rollin with force, tearin niggaz out the frame\nlike they was pictures of a bitch that I divorced\nBoss, so come on nigga, get wild and loose\nI whoop your motherfuckin ass and get arrested for child abuse\nEven your bitch can get it nigga\nI shove the barrel of a nine up her behind\nand pull the fuckin trigger\nGoin Psycho like Norman Bates, G. you better sedate\nBecause lately niggaz ain't able to take me\nIt ain't a man in the land that can stand G. Rap\nSave that candy-rap, shit for the handicapped\nNiggaz'll get slayed like a bunch of play pirates\nFuckin with me, y'alld rather fuck with the AIDS virus\nCause I set em up wet em up like sprinkles\nAnd put niggaz to sleep longer than Rip Van Winkle\nThe quicker the shit, the quicker the hit, I'm peakin a fit\nLeavin niggaz sicker than Liberace's dick\nGood luck, another hood bucked\nI kick you so far up your ass I get my motherfuckin foot stuck\nSee I manage to give niggaz more than a bandage\nBlue Cross and Blue Shield, couldn't cover the motherfuckin damage\nCause I'm bold and bigger, puttin manholes in niggaz\nand holdin triggers up, to them golddiggers\nSo if you all over my dick just like a rubber\nMy rap is so fat, I make? and? blubber\nYou better duck, I'm like a volcano when I erupt\nyou bitch-ass rappers'll get fucked\nAnd you'll be one hoe, like Marilyn Monroe\nleft on death row, because I let the gun go\nbang blow your motherfuckin brains out\nBut you need more than detergent to get that motherfuckin stain out\nCause I serve more crabs than Red Lobster's\nWhen I pop shots, I leave lotsa dead mobsters\nPut down the microphone whether unknown or famous\nYou're out of luck and I don't give a FUCK what your name is\nBoy you better split, cause I'ma house shit\nMy dick'll be rich if you niggaz\nwants to put your money where your mouth is\nGassed up ass nigga, come set it\nCause when I pick up the gun, that be the end of the unleaded\nNow you could be a gold or a platinum artist\nBut deep down, you fuckin silly clowns know who's the hardest\nNiggaz I watered down with the quarter pound\ncause my slaughter sound can be caught around\nand found the slaughter town\nFor the clowns got eighty rounds worth of ammo\nPlay it again Sam, put on my jams, fuck a piano\nI'm leavin lame niggaz brain dead\nAww fuck it, nuff said","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nuff Said\n  artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo\n  album: Live and Let Die\n  duration_ms: 169777\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Kool G. Rap]\n  Here's the motherfuckin magnificent\n  I'll even bag innocent motherfuckers\n  See suckers like there was ten I sent\n  So if you come in my way - great, I pull out the trey - eight\n  Kool G. Rap's your fate, and not your playmate\n  So all you niggaz on the floor, bitchin that shit is dead\n  Tell it to the motherfuckin mortician\n  So get ready to let the led out, I'm knockin niggaz dead out\n  and blowin the back of your fuckin head out\n  Cookin niggaz better than mama's dinner\n  So let the drama enter, I'm sendin niggaz to the trauma center\n  Because I'm rollin with force, tearin niggaz out the frame\n  like they was pictures of a bitch that I divorced\n  Boss, so come on nigga, get wild and loose\n  I whoop your motherfuckin ass and get arrested for child abuse\n  Even your bitch can get it nigga\n  I shove the barrel of a nine up her behind\n  and pull the fuckin trigger\n  Goin Psycho like Norman Bates, G. you better sedate\n  Because lately niggaz ain't able to take me\n  It ain't a man in the land that can stand G. Rap\n  Save that candy-rap, shit for the handicapped\n  Niggaz'll get slayed like a bunch of play pirates\n  Fuckin with me, y'alld rather fuck with the AIDS virus\n  Cause I set em up wet em up like sprinkles\n  And put niggaz to sleep longer than Rip Van Winkle\n  The quicker the shit, the quicker the hit, I'm peakin a fit\n  Leavin niggaz sicker than Liberace's dick\n  Good luck, another hood bucked\n  I kick you so far up your ass I get my motherfuckin foot stuck\n  See I manage to give niggaz more than a bandage\n  Blue Cross and Blue Shield, couldn't cover the motherfuckin damage\n  Cause I'm bold and bigger, puttin manholes in niggaz\n  and holdin triggers up, to them golddiggers\n  So if you all over my dick just like a rubber\n  My rap is so fat, I make? and? blubber\n  You better duck, I'm like a volcano when I erupt\n  you bitch-ass rappers'll get fucked\n  And you'll be one hoe, like Marilyn Monroe\n  left on death row, because I let the gun go\n  bang blow your motherfuckin brains out\n  But you need more than detergent to get that motherfuckin stain out\n  Cause I serve more crabs than Red Lobster's\n  When I pop shots, I leave lotsa dead mobsters\n  Put down the microphone whether unknown or famous\n  You're out of luck and I don't give a FUCK what your name is\n  Boy you better split, cause I'ma house shit\n  My dick'll be rich if you niggaz\n  wants to put your money where your mouth is\n  Gassed up ass nigga, come set it\n  Cause when I pick up the gun, that be the end of the unleaded\n  Now you could be a gold or a platinum artist\n  But deep down, you fuckin silly clowns know who's the hardest\n  Niggaz I watered down with the quarter pound\n  cause my slaughter sound can be caught around\n  and found the slaughter town\n  For the clowns got eighty rounds worth of ammo\n  Play it again Sam, put on my jams, fuck a piano\n  I'm leavin lame niggaz brain dead\n  Aww fuck it, nuff said\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"}]