[{"id":39254649,"name":"Violators","trackName":"Violators","artistName":"L Boogie","albumName":"Violator: The Album","duration":337.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Let's get it started (Get it started)\nLet's keep it started (Keep it started)\nViolator (Yeah, yeah)\nThe album (Yeah, yeah)\n\nYo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\nDef Jam, website, violate the club niggas\nScreamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\nAlways want figures, but never play the cut niggas\nTalk mad shit, but never put up niggas\nIs it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\nFlow like dro, I pull then clip it\nOr mix it with some Moët and sip it\nThen turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\nRun up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\nShame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\nWhen they know I call my name at this table\nI'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\nThe Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\nGot sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\nBuns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\nIt ain't over, it ain't over\n\nUh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\nThe clothes, drop flows from the dome\nWith the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\nSonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\nHold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\nMy wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\nShit you won't find in Old Navy\nTwo hundred zero AD, still live shit\nSpit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\nSame chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\nThighs, hips, everything five and six\nHeight five-six, jeans five-six\nBenz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\nWe know dice hits, one cream four\nFor true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\nAny ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\nI'm touchin' keys like pianos\nAnd gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\nAyo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\nYou ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\nAyo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\nAnd I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\nWhat's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\nYo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\nAfter you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\nYour bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\nOrder the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\nI airplane the ho like I cockpit it\nYo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\nI like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\nFoundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\nI'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\nPuerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\nViolator, motherfucker\n\nYo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\nY'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\nAnd niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\nAll bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\nPop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\nBringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\nSee, I pop niggas like corn\nAnd real killers do killings with the lights on\nI knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\nRemember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\nIt's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\nYou open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\nSee, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\nFor his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\nY'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\nCop you some gators, drink champagne\n'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\nMurder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\nY'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\nY'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\nY'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\nYou niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\nBut only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\nWe've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\nLeft niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\nBe the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\nCheck out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\nWe did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\nMy appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\nDislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\nDon't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\nHave you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\nInfamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\nEspecially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\nGet buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\nI could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\nGiddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\nRide beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\nDown a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\nBlow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\nScramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\nMy hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\nGot you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\nMy landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\nBlow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\nAnd blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\nGritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\nYou know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\nTravelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\nRound up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\nYo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\nBeat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\nC-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\nFlipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\nAnalyze how many live niggas crammin' in\nWe throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\nSweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\nDancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\nThe gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\nUnravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\nFlipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\nWhat the fuck is wrong with y'all?\nCut that shit off now\nCut it off, nigga\nCut it off, nigga\nGo","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.94] Let's get it started (Get it started)\n[00:05.62] Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n[00:07.91] Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:09.26] The album (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:12.06] Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n[00:15.45] Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n[00:18.11] Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n[00:20.97] Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n[00:23.62] Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n[00:26.49] Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n[00:29.13] Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n[00:31.62] Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n[00:33.68] Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n[00:37.19] Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n[00:39.80] Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n[00:42.91] When they know I call my name at this table\n[00:44.92] I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n[00:47.72] The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n[00:50.20] Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n[00:53.39] Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n[00:57.66] It ain't over, it ain't over\n[01:00.46] Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n[01:01.94] The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n[01:03.81] With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n[01:06.57] Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n[01:09.32] Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n[01:11.92] My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n[01:15.55] Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n[01:17.54] Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n[01:20.01] Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n[01:22.75] Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n[01:25.78] Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n[01:28.13] Height five-six, jeans five-six\n[01:30.86] Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n[01:33.55] We know dice hits, one cream four\n[01:36.19] For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n[01:38.32] Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n[01:40.86] I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n[01:42.57] And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n[01:44.45] Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n[01:47.16] You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n[01:49.80] Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n[01:52.47] And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n[01:55.13] What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n[01:57.80] Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n[02:00.57] After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n[02:03.15] Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n[02:05.92] Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n[02:08.70] I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n[02:11.45] Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n[02:14.01] I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n[02:16.87] Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n[02:19.41] I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n[02:22.26] Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n[02:24.99] Violator, motherfucker\n[02:26.29] Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n[02:29.47] Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n[02:32.10] And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n[02:34.44] All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n[02:38.41] Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n[02:41.01] Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n[02:43.78] See, I pop niggas like corn\n[02:45.60] And real killers do killings with the lights on\n[02:48.35] I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n[02:51.05] Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n[02:53.75] It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n[02:57.15] You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n[02:59.98] See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n[03:02.62] For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n[03:05.12] Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n[03:08.43] Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n[03:10.68] 'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n[03:13.83] Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n[03:16.30] Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n[03:18.92] Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n[03:21.43] Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n[03:24.18] 'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n[03:27.37] You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n[03:30.05] But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n[03:32.39] We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n[03:35.53] Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n[03:37.97] Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n[03:40.76] Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n[03:43.15] We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n[03:46.23] My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n[03:48.95] Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n[03:51.54] 'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n[03:54.20] Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n[03:56.86] Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n[03:59.87] Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n[04:02.11] Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n[04:04.98] Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n[04:07.95] I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n[04:10.31] Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n[04:13.53] Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n[04:16.11] Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n[04:18.97] Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n[04:21.59] Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n[04:24.09] My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n[04:26.89] Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n[04:29.62] My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n[04:32.33] Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n[04:34.98] And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n[04:37.75] Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n[04:40.44] You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n[04:43.21] Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n[04:45.69] Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n[04:48.62] Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n[04:51.08] Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n[04:54.15] C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n[04:56.62] Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n[04:59.71] Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n[05:02.02] We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n[05:04.90] Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n[05:07.67] Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n[05:10.15] The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n[05:12.84] Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n[05:16.11] Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n[05:20.35] What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n[05:23.55] \n[05:25.70] Cut that shit off now\n[05:28.78] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:30.56] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:32.08] Go\n[05:36.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Violators\n  artist: L Boogie\n  album: 'Violator: The Album'\n  duration_ms: 337000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  start_ms: 2940\n  end_ms: 5620\n- text: Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  start_ms: 5620\n  end_ms: 7910\n- text: Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 7910\n  end_ms: 9260\n- text: The album (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 9260\n  end_ms: 12060\n- text: Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  start_ms: 12060\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18110\n- text: Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  start_ms: 18110\n  end_ms: 20970\n- text: Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  start_ms: 20970\n  end_ms: 23620\n- text: Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  start_ms: 23620\n  end_ms: 26490\n- text: Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  start_ms: 26490\n  end_ms: 29130\n- text: Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  start_ms: 29130\n  end_ms: 31620\n- text: Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  start_ms: 31620\n  end_ms: 33680\n- text: Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  start_ms: 33680\n  end_ms: 37190\n- text: Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n  start_ms: 37190\n  end_ms: 39800\n- text: Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  start_ms: 39800\n  end_ms: 42910\n- text: When they know I call my name at this table\n  start_ms: 42910\n  end_ms: 44920\n- text: I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n  start_ms: 44920\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50200\n- text: Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n  start_ms: 50200\n  end_ms: 53390\n- text: Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  start_ms: 53390\n  end_ms: 57660\n- text: It ain't over, it ain't over\n  start_ms: 57660\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 61940\n- text: The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  start_ms: 61940\n  end_ms: 63810\n- text: With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n  start_ms: 63810\n  end_ms: 66570\n- text: Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  start_ms: 66570\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 71920\n- text: My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  start_ms: 71920\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77540\n- text: Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  start_ms: 77540\n  end_ms: 80010\n- text: Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  start_ms: 80010\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85780\n- text: Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  start_ms: 85780\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: We know dice hits, one cream four\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98320\n- text: Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  start_ms: 98320\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102570\n- text: And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n  start_ms: 102570\n  end_ms: 104450\n- text: Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  start_ms: 104450\n  end_ms: 107160\n- text: You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  start_ms: 107160\n  end_ms: 109800\n- text: Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  start_ms: 109800\n  end_ms: 112470\n- text: And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 112470\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 117800\n- text: Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n  start_ms: 117800\n  end_ms: 120570\n- text: After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  start_ms: 120570\n  end_ms: 123150\n- text: Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  start_ms: 123150\n  end_ms: 125920\n- text: Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  start_ms: 125920\n  end_ms: 128700\n- text: I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  start_ms: 128700\n  end_ms: 131450\n- text: Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  start_ms: 131450\n  end_ms: 134010\n- text: I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  start_ms: 134010\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 142260\n- text: Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n  start_ms: 142260\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: Violator, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146290\n- text: Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n  start_ms: 146290\n  end_ms: 149470\n- text: Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n  start_ms: 149470\n  end_ms: 152100\n- text: And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  start_ms: 152100\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 158410\n- text: Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  start_ms: 158410\n  end_ms: 161010\n- text: Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  start_ms: 161010\n  end_ms: 163780\n- text: See, I pop niggas like corn\n  start_ms: 163780\n  end_ms: 165600\n- text: And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  start_ms: 165600\n  end_ms: 168350\n- text: I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  start_ms: 168350\n  end_ms: 171050\n- text: Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  start_ms: 171050\n  end_ms: 173750\n- text: It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n  start_ms: 173750\n  end_ms: 177150\n- text: You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  start_ms: 177150\n  end_ms: 179980\n- text: See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n  start_ms: 179980\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 188430\n- text: Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  start_ms: 188430\n  end_ms: 190680\n- text: '''Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift'\n  start_ms: 190680\n  end_ms: 193830\n- text: Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  start_ms: 193830\n  end_ms: 196300\n- text: Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  start_ms: 196300\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 201430\n- text: Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  start_ms: 201430\n  end_ms: 204180\n- text: '''Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there''s two of me, motherfucker'\n  start_ms: 204180\n  end_ms: 207370\n- text: You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  start_ms: 207370\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 217970\n- text: Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  start_ms: 217970\n  end_ms: 220760\n- text: Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  start_ms: 220760\n  end_ms: 223150\n- text: We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  start_ms: 223150\n  end_ms: 226230\n- text: My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  start_ms: 226230\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 231540\n- text: '''Cause nowadays you''ll only get wet with my dead arm'\n  start_ms: 231540\n  end_ms: 234200\n- text: Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n  start_ms: 234200\n  end_ms: 236860\n- text: Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  start_ms: 236860\n  end_ms: 239870\n- text: Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  start_ms: 239870\n  end_ms: 242110\n- text: Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  start_ms: 242110\n  end_ms: 244980\n- text: Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  start_ms: 244980\n  end_ms: 247950\n- text: I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n  start_ms: 247950\n  end_ms: 250310\n- text: Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  start_ms: 250310\n  end_ms: 253530\n- text: Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n  start_ms: 253530\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258970\n- text: Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  start_ms: 258970\n  end_ms: 261590\n- text: Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  start_ms: 261590\n  end_ms: 264090\n- text: My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  start_ms: 264090\n  end_ms: 266890\n- text: Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  start_ms: 266890\n  end_ms: 269620\n- text: My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  start_ms: 269620\n  end_ms: 272330\n- text: Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  start_ms: 272330\n  end_ms: 274980\n- text: And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  start_ms: 274980\n  end_ms: 277750\n- text: Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n  start_ms: 277750\n  end_ms: 280440\n- text: You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  start_ms: 280440\n  end_ms: 283210\n- text: Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  start_ms: 283210\n  end_ms: 285690\n- text: Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n  start_ms: 285690\n  end_ms: 288620\n- text: Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  start_ms: 288620\n  end_ms: 291080\n- text: Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  start_ms: 291080\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 296620\n- text: Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  start_ms: 296620\n  end_ms: 299710\n- text: Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  start_ms: 299710\n  end_ms: 302020\n- text: We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  start_ms: 302020\n  end_ms: 304900\n- text: Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  start_ms: 304900\n  end_ms: 307670\n- text: Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  start_ms: 307670\n  end_ms: 310150\n- text: The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  start_ms: 310150\n  end_ms: 312840\n- text: Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n  start_ms: 312840\n  end_ms: 316110\n- text: Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n  start_ms: 316110\n  end_ms: 320350\n- text: What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  start_ms: 320350\n  end_ms: 323550\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323550\n  end_ms: 325700\n- text: Cut that shit off now\n  start_ms: 325700\n  end_ms: 328780\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 328780\n  end_ms: 330560\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 330560\n  end_ms: 332080\n- text: Go\n  start_ms: 332080\n  end_ms: 336980\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 336980\nplain: |-\n  Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  The album (Yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\n  Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  When they know I call my name at this table\n  I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\n  The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\n  Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  It ain't over, it ain't over\n\n  Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\n  Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\n  We know dice hits, one cream four\n  For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\n  Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\n  After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\n  Violator, motherfucker\n\n  Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\n  Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\n  And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  See, I pop niggas like corn\n  And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\n  You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\n  For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\n  Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n  Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\n  You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\n  Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n  Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\n  Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\n  Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\n  Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\n  You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\n  Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\n  Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\n  Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\n  What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  Cut that shit off now\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Go\n"},{"id":28081323,"name":"Violators","trackName":"Violators","artistName":"L Boogie, Sonya Blade, Noreaga, Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes","albumName":"Violator: The Album","duration":337.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Let's get it started (Get it started)\nLet's keep it started (Keep it started)\nViolator (Yeah, yeah)\nThe album (Yeah, yeah)\n\nYo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\nDef Jam, website, violate the club niggas\nScreamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\nAlways want figures, but never play the cut niggas\nTalk mad shit, but never put up niggas\nIs it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\nFlow like dro, I pull then clip it\nOr mix it with some Moët and sip it\nThen turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\nRun up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\nShame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\nWhen they know I call my name at this table\nI'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\nThe Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\nGot sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\nBuns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\nIt ain't over, it ain't over\n\nUh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\nThe clothes, drop flows from the dome\nWith the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\nSonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\nHold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\nMy wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\nShit you won't find in Old Navy\nTwo hundred zero AD, still live shit\nSpit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\nSame chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\nThighs, hips, everything five and six\nHeight five-six, jeans five-six\nBenz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\nWe know dice hits, one cream four\nFor true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\nAny ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\nI'm touchin' keys like pianos\nAnd gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\nAyo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\nYou ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\nAyo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\nAnd I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\nWhat's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\nYo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\nAfter you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\nYour bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\nOrder the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\nI airplane the ho like I cockpit it\nYo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\nI like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\nFoundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\nI'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\nPuerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\nViolator, motherfucker\n\nYo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\nY'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\nAnd niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\nAll bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\nPop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\nBringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\nSee, I pop niggas like corn\nAnd real killers do killings with the lights on\nI knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\nRemember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\nIt's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\nYou open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\nSee, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\nFor his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\nY'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\nCop you some gators, drink champagne\n'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\nMurder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\nY'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\nY'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\nY'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\nYou niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\nBut only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\nWe've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\nLeft niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\nBe the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\nCheck out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\nWe did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\nMy appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\nDislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\nDon't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\nHave you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\nInfamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\nEspecially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\nGet buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\nI could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\nGiddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\nRide beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\nDown a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\nBlow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\nScramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\nMy hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\nGot you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\nMy landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\nBlow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\nAnd blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\nGritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\nYou know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\nTravelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\nRound up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\nYo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\nBeat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\nC-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\nFlipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\nAnalyze how many live niggas crammin' in\nWe throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\nSweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\nDancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\nThe gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\nUnravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\nFlipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\nWhat the fuck is wrong with y'all?\nCut that shit off now\nCut it off, nigga\nCut it off, nigga\nGo","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.94] Let's get it started (Get it started)\n[00:05.62] Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n[00:07.91] Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:09.26] The album (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:12.06] Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n[00:15.45] Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n[00:18.11] Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n[00:20.97] Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n[00:23.62] Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n[00:26.49] Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n[00:29.13] Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n[00:31.62] Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n[00:33.68] Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n[00:37.19] Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n[00:39.80] Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n[00:42.91] When they know I call my name at this table\n[00:44.92] I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n[00:47.72] The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n[00:50.20] Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n[00:53.39] Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n[00:57.66] It ain't over, it ain't over\n[01:00.46] Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n[01:01.94] The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n[01:03.81] With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n[01:06.57] Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n[01:09.32] Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n[01:11.92] My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n[01:15.55] Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n[01:17.54] Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n[01:20.01] Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n[01:22.75] Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n[01:25.78] Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n[01:28.13] Height five-six, jeans five-six\n[01:30.86] Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n[01:33.55] We know dice hits, one cream four\n[01:36.19] For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n[01:38.32] Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n[01:40.86] I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n[01:42.57] And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n[01:44.45] Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n[01:47.16] You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n[01:49.80] Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n[01:52.47] And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n[01:55.13] What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n[01:57.80] Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n[02:00.57] After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n[02:03.15] Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n[02:05.92] Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n[02:08.70] I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n[02:11.45] Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n[02:14.01] I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n[02:16.87] Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n[02:19.41] I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n[02:22.26] Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n[02:24.99] Violator, motherfucker\n[02:26.29] Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n[02:29.47] Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n[02:32.10] And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n[02:34.44] All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n[02:38.41] Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n[02:41.01] Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n[02:43.78] See, I pop niggas like corn\n[02:45.60] And real killers do killings with the lights on\n[02:48.35] I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n[02:51.05] Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n[02:53.75] It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n[02:57.15] You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n[02:59.98] See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n[03:02.62] For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n[03:05.12] Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n[03:08.43] Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n[03:10.68] 'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n[03:13.83] Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n[03:16.30] Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n[03:18.92] Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n[03:21.43] Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n[03:24.18] 'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n[03:27.37] You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n[03:30.05] But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n[03:32.39] We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n[03:35.53] Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n[03:37.97] Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n[03:40.76] Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n[03:43.15] We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n[03:46.23] My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n[03:48.95] Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n[03:51.54] 'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n[03:54.20] Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n[03:56.86] Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n[03:59.87] Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n[04:02.11] Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n[04:04.98] Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n[04:07.95] I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n[04:10.31] Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n[04:13.53] Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n[04:16.11] Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n[04:18.97] Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n[04:21.59] Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n[04:24.09] My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n[04:26.89] Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n[04:29.62] My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n[04:32.33] Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n[04:34.98] And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n[04:37.75] Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n[04:40.44] You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n[04:43.21] Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n[04:45.69] Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n[04:48.62] Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n[04:51.08] Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n[04:54.15] C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n[04:56.62] Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n[04:59.71] Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n[05:02.02] We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n[05:04.90] Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n[05:07.67] Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n[05:10.15] The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n[05:12.84] Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n[05:16.11] Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n[05:20.35] What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n[05:23.55] \n[05:25.70] Cut that shit off now\n[05:28.78] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:30.56] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:32.08] Go\n[05:36.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Violators\n  artist: L Boogie, Sonya Blade, Noreaga, Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes\n  album: 'Violator: The Album'\n  duration_ms: 337000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  start_ms: 2940\n  end_ms: 5620\n- text: Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  start_ms: 5620\n  end_ms: 7910\n- text: Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 7910\n  end_ms: 9260\n- text: The album (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 9260\n  end_ms: 12060\n- text: Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  start_ms: 12060\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18110\n- text: Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  start_ms: 18110\n  end_ms: 20970\n- text: Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  start_ms: 20970\n  end_ms: 23620\n- text: Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  start_ms: 23620\n  end_ms: 26490\n- text: Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  start_ms: 26490\n  end_ms: 29130\n- text: Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  start_ms: 29130\n  end_ms: 31620\n- text: Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  start_ms: 31620\n  end_ms: 33680\n- text: Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  start_ms: 33680\n  end_ms: 37190\n- text: Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n  start_ms: 37190\n  end_ms: 39800\n- text: Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  start_ms: 39800\n  end_ms: 42910\n- text: When they know I call my name at this table\n  start_ms: 42910\n  end_ms: 44920\n- text: I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n  start_ms: 44920\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50200\n- text: Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n  start_ms: 50200\n  end_ms: 53390\n- text: Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  start_ms: 53390\n  end_ms: 57660\n- text: It ain't over, it ain't over\n  start_ms: 57660\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 61940\n- text: The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  start_ms: 61940\n  end_ms: 63810\n- text: With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n  start_ms: 63810\n  end_ms: 66570\n- text: Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  start_ms: 66570\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 71920\n- text: My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  start_ms: 71920\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77540\n- text: Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  start_ms: 77540\n  end_ms: 80010\n- text: Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  start_ms: 80010\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85780\n- text: Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  start_ms: 85780\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: We know dice hits, one cream four\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98320\n- text: Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  start_ms: 98320\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102570\n- text: And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n  start_ms: 102570\n  end_ms: 104450\n- text: Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  start_ms: 104450\n  end_ms: 107160\n- text: You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  start_ms: 107160\n  end_ms: 109800\n- text: Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  start_ms: 109800\n  end_ms: 112470\n- text: And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 112470\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 117800\n- text: Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n  start_ms: 117800\n  end_ms: 120570\n- text: After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  start_ms: 120570\n  end_ms: 123150\n- text: Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  start_ms: 123150\n  end_ms: 125920\n- text: Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  start_ms: 125920\n  end_ms: 128700\n- text: I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  start_ms: 128700\n  end_ms: 131450\n- text: Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  start_ms: 131450\n  end_ms: 134010\n- text: I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  start_ms: 134010\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 142260\n- text: Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n  start_ms: 142260\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: Violator, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146290\n- text: Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n  start_ms: 146290\n  end_ms: 149470\n- text: Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n  start_ms: 149470\n  end_ms: 152100\n- text: And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  start_ms: 152100\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 158410\n- text: Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  start_ms: 158410\n  end_ms: 161010\n- text: Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  start_ms: 161010\n  end_ms: 163780\n- text: See, I pop niggas like corn\n  start_ms: 163780\n  end_ms: 165600\n- text: And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  start_ms: 165600\n  end_ms: 168350\n- text: I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  start_ms: 168350\n  end_ms: 171050\n- text: Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  start_ms: 171050\n  end_ms: 173750\n- text: It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n  start_ms: 173750\n  end_ms: 177150\n- text: You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  start_ms: 177150\n  end_ms: 179980\n- text: See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n  start_ms: 179980\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 188430\n- text: Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  start_ms: 188430\n  end_ms: 190680\n- text: '''Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift'\n  start_ms: 190680\n  end_ms: 193830\n- text: Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  start_ms: 193830\n  end_ms: 196300\n- text: Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  start_ms: 196300\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 201430\n- text: Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  start_ms: 201430\n  end_ms: 204180\n- text: '''Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there''s two of me, motherfucker'\n  start_ms: 204180\n  end_ms: 207370\n- text: You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  start_ms: 207370\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 217970\n- text: Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  start_ms: 217970\n  end_ms: 220760\n- text: Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  start_ms: 220760\n  end_ms: 223150\n- text: We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  start_ms: 223150\n  end_ms: 226230\n- text: My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  start_ms: 226230\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 231540\n- text: '''Cause nowadays you''ll only get wet with my dead arm'\n  start_ms: 231540\n  end_ms: 234200\n- text: Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n  start_ms: 234200\n  end_ms: 236860\n- text: Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  start_ms: 236860\n  end_ms: 239870\n- text: Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  start_ms: 239870\n  end_ms: 242110\n- text: Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  start_ms: 242110\n  end_ms: 244980\n- text: Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  start_ms: 244980\n  end_ms: 247950\n- text: I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n  start_ms: 247950\n  end_ms: 250310\n- text: Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  start_ms: 250310\n  end_ms: 253530\n- text: Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n  start_ms: 253530\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258970\n- text: Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  start_ms: 258970\n  end_ms: 261590\n- text: Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  start_ms: 261590\n  end_ms: 264090\n- text: My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  start_ms: 264090\n  end_ms: 266890\n- text: Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  start_ms: 266890\n  end_ms: 269620\n- text: My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  start_ms: 269620\n  end_ms: 272330\n- text: Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  start_ms: 272330\n  end_ms: 274980\n- text: And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  start_ms: 274980\n  end_ms: 277750\n- text: Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n  start_ms: 277750\n  end_ms: 280440\n- text: You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  start_ms: 280440\n  end_ms: 283210\n- text: Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  start_ms: 283210\n  end_ms: 285690\n- text: Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n  start_ms: 285690\n  end_ms: 288620\n- text: Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  start_ms: 288620\n  end_ms: 291080\n- text: Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  start_ms: 291080\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 296620\n- text: Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  start_ms: 296620\n  end_ms: 299710\n- text: Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  start_ms: 299710\n  end_ms: 302020\n- text: We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  start_ms: 302020\n  end_ms: 304900\n- text: Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  start_ms: 304900\n  end_ms: 307670\n- text: Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  start_ms: 307670\n  end_ms: 310150\n- text: The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  start_ms: 310150\n  end_ms: 312840\n- text: Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n  start_ms: 312840\n  end_ms: 316110\n- text: Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n  start_ms: 316110\n  end_ms: 320350\n- text: What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  start_ms: 320350\n  end_ms: 323550\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323550\n  end_ms: 325700\n- text: Cut that shit off now\n  start_ms: 325700\n  end_ms: 328780\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 328780\n  end_ms: 330560\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 330560\n  end_ms: 332080\n- text: Go\n  start_ms: 332080\n  end_ms: 336980\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 336980\nplain: |-\n  Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  The album (Yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\n  Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  When they know I call my name at this table\n  I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\n  The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\n  Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  It ain't over, it ain't over\n\n  Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\n  Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\n  We know dice hits, one cream four\n  For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\n  Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\n  After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\n  Violator, motherfucker\n\n  Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\n  Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\n  And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  See, I pop niggas like corn\n  And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\n  You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\n  For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\n  Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n  Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\n  You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\n  Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n  Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\n  Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\n  Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\n  Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\n  You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\n  Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\n  Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\n  Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\n  What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  Cut that shit off now\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Go\n"},{"id":36510176,"name":"Violators","trackName":"Violators","artistName":"L Boogie, Sonja Blade, N.O.R.E., Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes","albumName":"Violator: The Album","duration":337.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Let's get it started (Get it started)\nLet's keep it started (Keep it started)\nViolator (Yeah, yeah)\nThe album (Yeah, yeah)\n\nYo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\nDef Jam, website, violate the club niggas\nScreamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\nAlways want figures, but never play the cut niggas\nTalk mad shit, but never put up niggas\nIs it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\nFlow like dro, I pull then clip it\nOr mix it with some Moët and sip it\nThen turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\nRun up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\nShame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\nWhen they know I call my name at this table\nI'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\nThe Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\nGot sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\nBuns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\nIt ain't over, it ain't over\n\nUh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\nThe clothes, drop flows from the dome\nWith the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\nSonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\nHold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\nMy wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\nShit you won't find in Old Navy\nTwo hundred zero AD, still live shit\nSpit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\nSame chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\nThighs, hips, everything five and six\nHeight five-six, jeans five-six\nBenz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\nWe know dice hits, one cream four\nFor true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\nAny ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\nI'm touchin' keys like pianos\nAnd gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\nAyo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\nYou ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\nAyo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\nAnd I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\nWhat's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\nYo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\nAfter you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\nYour bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\nOrder the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\nI airplane the ho like I cockpit it\nYo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\nI like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\nFoundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\nI'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\nPuerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\nViolator, motherfucker\n\nYo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\nY'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\nAnd niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\nAll bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\nPop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\nBringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\nSee, I pop niggas like corn\nAnd real killers do killings with the lights on\nI knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\nRemember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\nIt's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\nYou open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\nSee, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\nFor his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\nY'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\nCop you some gators, drink champagne\n'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\nMurder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\nY'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\nY'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\nY'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\nYou niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\nBut only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\nWe've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\nLeft niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\nBe the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\nCheck out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\nWe did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\nMy appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\nDislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\nDon't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\nHave you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\nInfamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\nEspecially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\nGet buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\nI could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\nGiddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\nRide beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\nDown a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\nBlow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\nScramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\nMy hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\nGot you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\nMy landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\nBlow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\nAnd blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\nGritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\nYou know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\nTravelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\nRound up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\nYo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\nBeat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\nC-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\nFlipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\nAnalyze how many live niggas crammin' in\nWe throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\nSweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\nDancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\nThe gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\nUnravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\nFlipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\nWhat the fuck is wrong with y'all?\nCut that shit off now\nCut it off, nigga\nCut it off, nigga\nGo","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.94] Let's get it started (Get it started)\n[00:05.62] Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n[00:07.91] Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:09.26] The album (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:12.06] Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n[00:15.45] Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n[00:18.11] Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n[00:20.97] Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n[00:23.62] Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n[00:26.49] Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n[00:29.13] Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n[00:31.62] Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n[00:33.68] Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n[00:37.19] Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n[00:39.80] Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n[00:42.91] When they know I call my name at this table\n[00:44.92] I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n[00:47.72] The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n[00:50.20] Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n[00:53.39] Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n[00:57.66] It ain't over, it ain't over\n[01:00.46] Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n[01:01.94] The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n[01:03.81] With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n[01:06.57] Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n[01:09.32] Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n[01:11.92] My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n[01:15.55] Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n[01:17.54] Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n[01:20.01] Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n[01:22.75] Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n[01:25.78] Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n[01:28.13] Height five-six, jeans five-six\n[01:30.86] Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n[01:33.55] We know dice hits, one cream four\n[01:36.19] For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n[01:38.32] Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n[01:40.86] I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n[01:42.57] And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n[01:44.45] Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n[01:47.16] You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n[01:49.80] Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n[01:52.47] And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n[01:55.13] What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n[01:57.80] Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n[02:00.57] After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n[02:03.15] Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n[02:05.92] Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n[02:08.70] I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n[02:11.45] Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n[02:14.01] I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n[02:16.87] Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n[02:19.41] I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n[02:22.26] Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n[02:24.99] Violator, motherfucker\n[02:26.29] Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n[02:29.47] Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n[02:32.10] And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n[02:34.44] All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n[02:38.41] Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n[02:41.01] Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n[02:43.78] See, I pop niggas like corn\n[02:45.60] And real killers do killings with the lights on\n[02:48.35] I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n[02:51.05] Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n[02:53.75] It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n[02:57.15] You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n[02:59.98] See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n[03:02.62] For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n[03:05.12] Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n[03:08.43] Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n[03:10.68] 'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n[03:13.83] Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n[03:16.30] Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n[03:18.92] Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n[03:21.43] Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n[03:24.18] 'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n[03:27.37] You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n[03:30.05] But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n[03:32.39] We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n[03:35.53] Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n[03:37.97] Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n[03:40.76] Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n[03:43.15] We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n[03:46.23] My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n[03:48.95] Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n[03:51.54] 'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n[03:54.20] Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n[03:56.86] Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n[03:59.87] Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n[04:02.11] Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n[04:04.98] Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n[04:07.95] I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n[04:10.31] Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n[04:13.53] Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n[04:16.11] Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n[04:18.97] Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n[04:21.59] Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n[04:24.09] My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n[04:26.89] Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n[04:29.62] My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n[04:32.33] Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n[04:34.98] And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n[04:37.75] Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n[04:40.44] You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n[04:43.21] Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n[04:45.69] Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n[04:48.62] Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n[04:51.08] Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n[04:54.15] C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n[04:56.62] Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n[04:59.71] Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n[05:02.02] We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n[05:04.90] Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n[05:07.67] Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n[05:10.15] The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n[05:12.84] Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n[05:16.11] Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n[05:20.35] What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n[05:23.55] \n[05:25.70] Cut that shit off now\n[05:28.78] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:30.56] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:32.08] Go\n[05:36.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Violators\n  artist: L Boogie, Sonja Blade, N.O.R.E., Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes\n  album: 'Violator: The Album'\n  duration_ms: 337000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  start_ms: 2940\n  end_ms: 5620\n- text: Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  start_ms: 5620\n  end_ms: 7910\n- text: Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 7910\n  end_ms: 9260\n- text: The album (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 9260\n  end_ms: 12060\n- text: Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  start_ms: 12060\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18110\n- text: Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  start_ms: 18110\n  end_ms: 20970\n- text: Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  start_ms: 20970\n  end_ms: 23620\n- text: Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  start_ms: 23620\n  end_ms: 26490\n- text: Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  start_ms: 26490\n  end_ms: 29130\n- text: Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  start_ms: 29130\n  end_ms: 31620\n- text: Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  start_ms: 31620\n  end_ms: 33680\n- text: Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  start_ms: 33680\n  end_ms: 37190\n- text: Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n  start_ms: 37190\n  end_ms: 39800\n- text: Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  start_ms: 39800\n  end_ms: 42910\n- text: When they know I call my name at this table\n  start_ms: 42910\n  end_ms: 44920\n- text: I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n  start_ms: 44920\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50200\n- text: Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n  start_ms: 50200\n  end_ms: 53390\n- text: Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  start_ms: 53390\n  end_ms: 57660\n- text: It ain't over, it ain't over\n  start_ms: 57660\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 61940\n- text: The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  start_ms: 61940\n  end_ms: 63810\n- text: With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n  start_ms: 63810\n  end_ms: 66570\n- text: Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  start_ms: 66570\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 71920\n- text: My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  start_ms: 71920\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77540\n- text: Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  start_ms: 77540\n  end_ms: 80010\n- text: Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  start_ms: 80010\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85780\n- text: Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  start_ms: 85780\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: We know dice hits, one cream four\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98320\n- text: Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  start_ms: 98320\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102570\n- text: And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n  start_ms: 102570\n  end_ms: 104450\n- text: Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  start_ms: 104450\n  end_ms: 107160\n- text: You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  start_ms: 107160\n  end_ms: 109800\n- text: Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  start_ms: 109800\n  end_ms: 112470\n- text: And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 112470\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 117800\n- text: Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n  start_ms: 117800\n  end_ms: 120570\n- text: After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  start_ms: 120570\n  end_ms: 123150\n- text: Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  start_ms: 123150\n  end_ms: 125920\n- text: Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  start_ms: 125920\n  end_ms: 128700\n- text: I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  start_ms: 128700\n  end_ms: 131450\n- text: Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  start_ms: 131450\n  end_ms: 134010\n- text: I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  start_ms: 134010\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 142260\n- text: Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n  start_ms: 142260\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: Violator, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146290\n- text: Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n  start_ms: 146290\n  end_ms: 149470\n- text: Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n  start_ms: 149470\n  end_ms: 152100\n- text: And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  start_ms: 152100\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 158410\n- text: Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  start_ms: 158410\n  end_ms: 161010\n- text: Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  start_ms: 161010\n  end_ms: 163780\n- text: See, I pop niggas like corn\n  start_ms: 163780\n  end_ms: 165600\n- text: And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  start_ms: 165600\n  end_ms: 168350\n- text: I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  start_ms: 168350\n  end_ms: 171050\n- text: Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  start_ms: 171050\n  end_ms: 173750\n- text: It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n  start_ms: 173750\n  end_ms: 177150\n- text: You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  start_ms: 177150\n  end_ms: 179980\n- text: See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n  start_ms: 179980\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 188430\n- text: Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  start_ms: 188430\n  end_ms: 190680\n- text: '''Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift'\n  start_ms: 190680\n  end_ms: 193830\n- text: Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  start_ms: 193830\n  end_ms: 196300\n- text: Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  start_ms: 196300\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 201430\n- text: Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  start_ms: 201430\n  end_ms: 204180\n- text: '''Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there''s two of me, motherfucker'\n  start_ms: 204180\n  end_ms: 207370\n- text: You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  start_ms: 207370\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 217970\n- text: Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  start_ms: 217970\n  end_ms: 220760\n- text: Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  start_ms: 220760\n  end_ms: 223150\n- text: We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  start_ms: 223150\n  end_ms: 226230\n- text: My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  start_ms: 226230\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 231540\n- text: '''Cause nowadays you''ll only get wet with my dead arm'\n  start_ms: 231540\n  end_ms: 234200\n- text: Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n  start_ms: 234200\n  end_ms: 236860\n- text: Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  start_ms: 236860\n  end_ms: 239870\n- text: Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  start_ms: 239870\n  end_ms: 242110\n- text: Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  start_ms: 242110\n  end_ms: 244980\n- text: Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  start_ms: 244980\n  end_ms: 247950\n- text: I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n  start_ms: 247950\n  end_ms: 250310\n- text: Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  start_ms: 250310\n  end_ms: 253530\n- text: Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n  start_ms: 253530\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258970\n- text: Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  start_ms: 258970\n  end_ms: 261590\n- text: Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  start_ms: 261590\n  end_ms: 264090\n- text: My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  start_ms: 264090\n  end_ms: 266890\n- text: Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  start_ms: 266890\n  end_ms: 269620\n- text: My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  start_ms: 269620\n  end_ms: 272330\n- text: Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  start_ms: 272330\n  end_ms: 274980\n- text: And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  start_ms: 274980\n  end_ms: 277750\n- text: Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n  start_ms: 277750\n  end_ms: 280440\n- text: You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  start_ms: 280440\n  end_ms: 283210\n- text: Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  start_ms: 283210\n  end_ms: 285690\n- text: Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n  start_ms: 285690\n  end_ms: 288620\n- text: Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  start_ms: 288620\n  end_ms: 291080\n- text: Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  start_ms: 291080\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 296620\n- text: Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  start_ms: 296620\n  end_ms: 299710\n- text: Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  start_ms: 299710\n  end_ms: 302020\n- text: We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  start_ms: 302020\n  end_ms: 304900\n- text: Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  start_ms: 304900\n  end_ms: 307670\n- text: Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  start_ms: 307670\n  end_ms: 310150\n- text: The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  start_ms: 310150\n  end_ms: 312840\n- text: Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n  start_ms: 312840\n  end_ms: 316110\n- text: Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n  start_ms: 316110\n  end_ms: 320350\n- text: What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  start_ms: 320350\n  end_ms: 323550\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323550\n  end_ms: 325700\n- text: Cut that shit off now\n  start_ms: 325700\n  end_ms: 328780\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 328780\n  end_ms: 330560\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 330560\n  end_ms: 332080\n- text: Go\n  start_ms: 332080\n  end_ms: 336980\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 336980\nplain: |-\n  Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  The album (Yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\n  Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  When they know I call my name at this table\n  I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\n  The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\n  Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  It ain't over, it ain't over\n\n  Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\n  Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\n  We know dice hits, one cream four\n  For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\n  Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\n  After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\n  Violator, motherfucker\n\n  Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\n  Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\n  And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  See, I pop niggas like corn\n  And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\n  You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\n  For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\n  Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n  Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\n  You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\n  Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n  Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\n  Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\n  Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\n  Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\n  You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\n  Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\n  Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\n  Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\n  What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  Cut that shit off now\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Go\n"},{"id":29039222,"name":"Violators","trackName":"Violators","artistName":"L Boogie, Sonya Blade, N.O.R.E., Mysonne, Prodigy, Busta Rhymes","albumName":"Violator: The Album","duration":337.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Let's get it started (Get it started)\nLet's keep it started (Keep it started)\nViolator (Yeah, yeah)\nThe album (Yeah, yeah)\n\nYo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\nDef Jam, website, violate the club niggas\nScreamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\nAlways want figures, but never play the cut niggas\nTalk mad shit, but never put up niggas\nIs it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\nFlow like dro, I pull then clip it\nOr mix it with some Moët and sip it\nThen turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\nRun up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\nShame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\nWhen they know I call my name at this table\nI'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\nThe Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\nGot sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\nBuns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\nIt ain't over, it ain't over\n\nUh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\nThe clothes, drop flows from the dome\nWith the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\nSonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\nHold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\nMy wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\nShit you won't find in Old Navy\nTwo hundred zero AD, still live shit\nSpit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\nSame chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\nThighs, hips, everything five and six\nHeight five-six, jeans five-six\nBenz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\nWe know dice hits, one cream four\nFor true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\nAny ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\nI'm touchin' keys like pianos\nAnd gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\nAyo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\nYou ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\nAyo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\nAnd I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\nWhat's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\nYo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\nAfter you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\nYour bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\nOrder the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\nI airplane the ho like I cockpit it\nYo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\nI like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\nFoundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\nI'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\nPuerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\nViolator, motherfucker\n\nYo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\nY'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\nAnd niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\nAll bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\nPop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\nBringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\nSee, I pop niggas like corn\nAnd real killers do killings with the lights on\nI knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\nRemember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\nIt's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\nYou open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\nSee, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\nFor his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\nY'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\nCop you some gators, drink champagne\n'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\nMurder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\nY'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\nY'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\nY'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\nYou niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\nBut only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\nWe've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\nLeft niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\nBe the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\nCheck out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\nWe did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\nMy appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\nDislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\nDon't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\nHave you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\nInfamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\nEspecially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\nGet buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\nI could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\nGiddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\nRide beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\nDown a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\nBlow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\nScramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\nMy hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\nGot you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\nMy landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\nBlow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\nAnd blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\nGritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\nYou know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\nTravelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\nRound up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\nYo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\nBeat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\nC-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\nFlipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\nAnalyze how many live niggas crammin' in\nWe throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\nSweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\nDancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\nThe gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\nUnravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\nFlipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\nWhat the fuck is wrong with y'all?\nCut that shit off now\nCut it off, nigga\nCut it off, nigga\nGo","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.94] Let's get it started (Get it started)\n[00:05.62] Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n[00:07.91] Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:09.26] The album (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:12.06] Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n[00:15.45] Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n[00:18.11] Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n[00:20.97] Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n[00:23.62] Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n[00:26.49] Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n[00:29.13] Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n[00:31.62] Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n[00:33.68] Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n[00:37.19] Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n[00:39.80] Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n[00:42.91] When they know I call my name at this table\n[00:44.92] I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n[00:47.72] The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n[00:50.20] Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n[00:53.39] Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n[00:57.66] It ain't over, it ain't over\n[01:00.46] Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n[01:01.94] The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n[01:03.81] With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n[01:06.57] Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n[01:09.32] Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n[01:11.92] My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n[01:15.55] Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n[01:17.54] Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n[01:20.01] Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n[01:22.75] Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n[01:25.78] Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n[01:28.13] Height five-six, jeans five-six\n[01:30.86] Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n[01:33.55] We know dice hits, one cream four\n[01:36.19] For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n[01:38.32] Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n[01:40.86] I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n[01:42.57] And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n[01:44.45] Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n[01:47.16] You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n[01:49.80] Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n[01:52.47] And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n[01:55.13] What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n[01:57.80] Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n[02:00.57] After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n[02:03.15] Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n[02:05.92] Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n[02:08.70] I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n[02:11.45] Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n[02:14.01] I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n[02:16.87] Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n[02:19.41] I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n[02:22.26] Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n[02:24.99] Violator, motherfucker\n[02:26.29] Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n[02:29.47] Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n[02:32.10] And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n[02:34.44] All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n[02:38.41] Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n[02:41.01] Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n[02:43.78] See, I pop niggas like corn\n[02:45.60] And real killers do killings with the lights on\n[02:48.35] I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n[02:51.05] Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n[02:53.75] It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n[02:57.15] You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n[02:59.98] See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n[03:02.62] For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n[03:05.12] Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n[03:08.43] Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n[03:10.68] 'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n[03:13.83] Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n[03:16.30] Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n[03:18.92] Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n[03:21.43] Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n[03:24.18] 'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n[03:27.37] You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n[03:30.05] But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n[03:32.39] We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n[03:35.53] Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n[03:37.97] Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n[03:40.76] Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n[03:43.15] We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n[03:46.23] My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n[03:48.95] Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n[03:51.54] 'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n[03:54.20] Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n[03:56.86] Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n[03:59.87] Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n[04:02.11] Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n[04:04.98] Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n[04:07.95] I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n[04:10.31] Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n[04:13.53] Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n[04:16.11] Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n[04:18.97] Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n[04:21.59] Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n[04:24.09] My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n[04:26.89] Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n[04:29.62] My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n[04:32.33] Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n[04:34.98] And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n[04:37.75] Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n[04:40.44] You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n[04:43.21] Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n[04:45.69] Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n[04:48.62] Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n[04:51.08] Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n[04:54.15] C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n[04:56.62] Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n[04:59.71] Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n[05:02.02] We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n[05:04.90] Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n[05:07.67] Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n[05:10.15] The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n[05:12.84] Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n[05:16.11] Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n[05:20.35] What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n[05:23.55] \n[05:25.70] Cut that shit off now\n[05:28.78] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:30.56] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:32.08] Go\n[05:36.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Violators\n  artist: L Boogie, Sonya Blade, N.O.R.E., Mysonne, Prodigy, Busta Rhymes\n  album: 'Violator: The Album'\n  duration_ms: 337000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  start_ms: 2940\n  end_ms: 5620\n- text: Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  start_ms: 5620\n  end_ms: 7910\n- text: Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 7910\n  end_ms: 9260\n- text: The album (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 9260\n  end_ms: 12060\n- text: Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  start_ms: 12060\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18110\n- text: Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  start_ms: 18110\n  end_ms: 20970\n- text: Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  start_ms: 20970\n  end_ms: 23620\n- text: Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  start_ms: 23620\n  end_ms: 26490\n- text: Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  start_ms: 26490\n  end_ms: 29130\n- text: Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  start_ms: 29130\n  end_ms: 31620\n- text: Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  start_ms: 31620\n  end_ms: 33680\n- text: Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  start_ms: 33680\n  end_ms: 37190\n- text: Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n  start_ms: 37190\n  end_ms: 39800\n- text: Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  start_ms: 39800\n  end_ms: 42910\n- text: When they know I call my name at this table\n  start_ms: 42910\n  end_ms: 44920\n- text: I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n  start_ms: 44920\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50200\n- text: Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n  start_ms: 50200\n  end_ms: 53390\n- text: Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  start_ms: 53390\n  end_ms: 57660\n- text: It ain't over, it ain't over\n  start_ms: 57660\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 61940\n- text: The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  start_ms: 61940\n  end_ms: 63810\n- text: With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n  start_ms: 63810\n  end_ms: 66570\n- text: Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  start_ms: 66570\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 71920\n- text: My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  start_ms: 71920\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77540\n- text: Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  start_ms: 77540\n  end_ms: 80010\n- text: Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  start_ms: 80010\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85780\n- text: Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  start_ms: 85780\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: We know dice hits, one cream four\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98320\n- text: Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  start_ms: 98320\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102570\n- text: And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n  start_ms: 102570\n  end_ms: 104450\n- text: Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  start_ms: 104450\n  end_ms: 107160\n- text: You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  start_ms: 107160\n  end_ms: 109800\n- text: Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  start_ms: 109800\n  end_ms: 112470\n- text: And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 112470\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 117800\n- text: Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n  start_ms: 117800\n  end_ms: 120570\n- text: After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  start_ms: 120570\n  end_ms: 123150\n- text: Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  start_ms: 123150\n  end_ms: 125920\n- text: Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  start_ms: 125920\n  end_ms: 128700\n- text: I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  start_ms: 128700\n  end_ms: 131450\n- text: Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  start_ms: 131450\n  end_ms: 134010\n- text: I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  start_ms: 134010\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 142260\n- text: Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n  start_ms: 142260\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: Violator, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146290\n- text: Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n  start_ms: 146290\n  end_ms: 149470\n- text: Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n  start_ms: 149470\n  end_ms: 152100\n- text: And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  start_ms: 152100\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 158410\n- text: Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  start_ms: 158410\n  end_ms: 161010\n- text: Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  start_ms: 161010\n  end_ms: 163780\n- text: See, I pop niggas like corn\n  start_ms: 163780\n  end_ms: 165600\n- text: And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  start_ms: 165600\n  end_ms: 168350\n- text: I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  start_ms: 168350\n  end_ms: 171050\n- text: Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  start_ms: 171050\n  end_ms: 173750\n- text: It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n  start_ms: 173750\n  end_ms: 177150\n- text: You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  start_ms: 177150\n  end_ms: 179980\n- text: See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n  start_ms: 179980\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 188430\n- text: Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  start_ms: 188430\n  end_ms: 190680\n- text: '''Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift'\n  start_ms: 190680\n  end_ms: 193830\n- text: Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  start_ms: 193830\n  end_ms: 196300\n- text: Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  start_ms: 196300\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 201430\n- text: Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  start_ms: 201430\n  end_ms: 204180\n- text: '''Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there''s two of me, motherfucker'\n  start_ms: 204180\n  end_ms: 207370\n- text: You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  start_ms: 207370\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 217970\n- text: Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  start_ms: 217970\n  end_ms: 220760\n- text: Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  start_ms: 220760\n  end_ms: 223150\n- text: We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  start_ms: 223150\n  end_ms: 226230\n- text: My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  start_ms: 226230\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 231540\n- text: '''Cause nowadays you''ll only get wet with my dead arm'\n  start_ms: 231540\n  end_ms: 234200\n- text: Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n  start_ms: 234200\n  end_ms: 236860\n- text: Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  start_ms: 236860\n  end_ms: 239870\n- text: Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  start_ms: 239870\n  end_ms: 242110\n- text: Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  start_ms: 242110\n  end_ms: 244980\n- text: Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  start_ms: 244980\n  end_ms: 247950\n- text: I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n  start_ms: 247950\n  end_ms: 250310\n- text: Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  start_ms: 250310\n  end_ms: 253530\n- text: Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n  start_ms: 253530\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258970\n- text: Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  start_ms: 258970\n  end_ms: 261590\n- text: Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  start_ms: 261590\n  end_ms: 264090\n- text: My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  start_ms: 264090\n  end_ms: 266890\n- text: Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  start_ms: 266890\n  end_ms: 269620\n- text: My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  start_ms: 269620\n  end_ms: 272330\n- text: Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  start_ms: 272330\n  end_ms: 274980\n- text: And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  start_ms: 274980\n  end_ms: 277750\n- text: Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n  start_ms: 277750\n  end_ms: 280440\n- text: You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  start_ms: 280440\n  end_ms: 283210\n- text: Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  start_ms: 283210\n  end_ms: 285690\n- text: Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n  start_ms: 285690\n  end_ms: 288620\n- text: Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  start_ms: 288620\n  end_ms: 291080\n- text: Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  start_ms: 291080\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 296620\n- text: Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  start_ms: 296620\n  end_ms: 299710\n- text: Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  start_ms: 299710\n  end_ms: 302020\n- text: We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  start_ms: 302020\n  end_ms: 304900\n- text: Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  start_ms: 304900\n  end_ms: 307670\n- text: Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  start_ms: 307670\n  end_ms: 310150\n- text: The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  start_ms: 310150\n  end_ms: 312840\n- text: Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n  start_ms: 312840\n  end_ms: 316110\n- text: Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n  start_ms: 316110\n  end_ms: 320350\n- text: What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  start_ms: 320350\n  end_ms: 323550\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323550\n  end_ms: 325700\n- text: Cut that shit off now\n  start_ms: 325700\n  end_ms: 328780\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 328780\n  end_ms: 330560\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 330560\n  end_ms: 332080\n- text: Go\n  start_ms: 332080\n  end_ms: 336980\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 336980\nplain: |-\n  Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  The album (Yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\n  Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  When they know I call my name at this table\n  I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\n  The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\n  Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  It ain't over, it ain't over\n\n  Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\n  Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\n  We know dice hits, one cream four\n  For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\n  Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\n  After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\n  Violator, motherfucker\n\n  Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\n  Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\n  And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  See, I pop niggas like corn\n  And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\n  You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\n  For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\n  Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n  Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\n  You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\n  Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n  Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\n  Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\n  Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\n  Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\n  You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\n  Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\n  Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\n  Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\n  What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  Cut that shit off now\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Go\n"},{"id":33804678,"name":"Violators (feat. Sonya Blade, Noreaga, Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes)","trackName":"Violators (feat. Sonya Blade, Noreaga, Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes)","artistName":"L Boogie","albumName":"Violator: The Album","duration":338.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Let's get it started (Get it started)\nLet's keep it started (Keep it started)\nViolator (Yeah, yeah)\nThe album (Yeah, yeah)\n\nYo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\nDef Jam, website, violate the club niggas\nScreamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\nAlways want figures, but never play the cut niggas\nTalk mad shit, but never put up niggas\nIs it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\nFlow like dro, I pull then clip it\nOr mix it with some Moët and sip it\nThen turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\nRun up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\nShame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\nWhen they know I call my name at this table\nI'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\nThe Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\nGot sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\nBuns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\nIt ain't over, it ain't over\n\nUh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\nThe clothes, drop flows from the dome\nWith the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\nSonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\nHold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\nMy wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\nShit you won't find in Old Navy\nTwo hundred zero AD, still live shit\nSpit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\nSame chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\nThighs, hips, everything five and six\nHeight five-six, jeans five-six\nBenz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\nWe know dice hits, one cream four\nFor true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\nAny ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\nI'm touchin' keys like pianos\nAnd gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\nAyo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\nYou ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\nAyo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\nAnd I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\nWhat's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\nYo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\nAfter you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\nYour bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\nOrder the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\nI airplane the ho like I cockpit it\nYo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\nI like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\nFoundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\nI'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\nPuerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\nViolator, motherfucker\n\nYo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\nY'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\nAnd niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\nAll bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\nPop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\nBringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\nSee, I pop niggas like corn\nAnd real killers do killings with the lights on\nI knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\nRemember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\nIt's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\nYou open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\nSee, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\nFor his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\nY'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\nCop you some gators, drink champagne\n'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\nMurder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\nY'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\nY'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\nY'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\nYou niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\nBut only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\nWe've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\nLeft niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\nBe the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\nCheck out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\nWe did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\nMy appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\nDislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\nDon't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\nHave you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\nInfamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\nEspecially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\nGet buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\nI could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\nGiddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\nRide beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\nDown a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\nBlow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\nScramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\nMy hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\nGot you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\nMy landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\nBlow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\nAnd blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\nGritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\nYou know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\nTravelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\nRound up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\nYo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\nBeat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\nC-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\nFlipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\nAnalyze how many live niggas crammin' in\nWe throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\nSweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\nDancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\nThe gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\nUnravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\nFlipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\nWhat the fuck is wrong with y'all?\nCut that shit off now\nCut it off, nigga\nCut it off, nigga\nGo","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.94] Let's get it started (Get it started)\n[00:05.62] Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n[00:07.91] Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:09.26] The album (Yeah, yeah)\n[00:12.06] Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n[00:15.45] Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n[00:18.11] Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n[00:20.97] Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n[00:23.62] Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n[00:26.49] Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n[00:29.13] Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n[00:31.62] Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n[00:33.68] Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n[00:37.19] Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n[00:39.80] Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n[00:42.91] When they know I call my name at this table\n[00:44.92] I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n[00:47.72] The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n[00:50.20] Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n[00:53.39] Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n[00:57.66] It ain't over, it ain't over\n[01:00.46] Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n[01:01.94] The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n[01:03.81] With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n[01:06.57] Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n[01:09.32] Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n[01:11.92] My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n[01:15.55] Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n[01:17.54] Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n[01:20.01] Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n[01:22.75] Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n[01:25.78] Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n[01:28.13] Height five-six, jeans five-six\n[01:30.86] Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n[01:33.55] We know dice hits, one cream four\n[01:36.19] For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n[01:38.32] Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n[01:40.86] I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n[01:42.57] And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n[01:44.45] Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n[01:47.16] You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n[01:49.80] Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n[01:52.47] And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n[01:55.13] What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n[01:57.80] Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n[02:00.57] After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n[02:03.15] Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n[02:05.92] Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n[02:08.70] I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n[02:11.45] Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n[02:14.01] I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n[02:16.87] Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n[02:19.41] I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n[02:22.26] Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n[02:24.99] Violator, motherfucker\n[02:26.29] Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n[02:29.47] Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n[02:32.10] And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n[02:34.44] All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n[02:38.41] Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n[02:41.01] Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n[02:43.78] See, I pop niggas like corn\n[02:45.60] And real killers do killings with the lights on\n[02:48.35] I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n[02:51.05] Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n[02:53.75] It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n[02:57.15] You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n[02:59.98] See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n[03:02.62] For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n[03:05.12] Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n[03:08.43] Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n[03:10.68] 'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n[03:13.83] Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n[03:16.30] Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n[03:18.92] Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n[03:21.43] Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n[03:24.18] 'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n[03:27.37] You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n[03:30.05] But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n[03:32.39] We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n[03:35.53] Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n[03:37.97] Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n[03:40.76] Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n[03:43.15] We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n[03:46.23] My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n[03:48.95] Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n[03:51.54] 'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n[03:54.20] Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n[03:56.86] Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n[03:59.87] Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n[04:02.11] Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n[04:04.98] Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n[04:07.95] I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n[04:10.31] Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n[04:13.53] Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n[04:16.11] Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n[04:18.97] Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n[04:21.59] Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n[04:24.09] My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n[04:26.89] Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n[04:29.62] My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n[04:32.33] Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n[04:34.98] And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n[04:37.75] Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n[04:40.44] You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n[04:43.21] Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n[04:45.69] Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n[04:48.62] Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n[04:51.08] Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n[04:54.15] C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n[04:56.62] Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n[04:59.71] Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n[05:02.02] We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n[05:04.90] Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n[05:07.67] Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n[05:10.15] The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n[05:12.84] Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n[05:16.11] Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n[05:20.35] What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n[05:23.55] \n[05:25.70] Cut that shit off now\n[05:28.78] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:30.56] Cut it off, nigga\n[05:32.08] Go\n[05:36.98] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Violators (feat. Sonya Blade, Noreaga, Mysonne, Prodigy & Busta Rhymes)\n  artist: L Boogie\n  album: 'Violator: The Album'\n  duration_ms: 338000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  start_ms: 2940\n  end_ms: 5620\n- text: Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  start_ms: 5620\n  end_ms: 7910\n- text: Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 7910\n  end_ms: 9260\n- text: The album (Yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 9260\n  end_ms: 12060\n- text: Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  start_ms: 12060\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18110\n- text: Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  start_ms: 18110\n  end_ms: 20970\n- text: Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  start_ms: 20970\n  end_ms: 23620\n- text: Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  start_ms: 23620\n  end_ms: 26490\n- text: Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  start_ms: 26490\n  end_ms: 29130\n- text: Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  start_ms: 29130\n  end_ms: 31620\n- text: Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  start_ms: 31620\n  end_ms: 33680\n- text: Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  start_ms: 33680\n  end_ms: 37190\n- text: Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n  start_ms: 37190\n  end_ms: 39800\n- text: Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  start_ms: 39800\n  end_ms: 42910\n- text: When they know I call my name at this table\n  start_ms: 42910\n  end_ms: 44920\n- text: I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n  start_ms: 44920\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50200\n- text: Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n  start_ms: 50200\n  end_ms: 53390\n- text: Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  start_ms: 53390\n  end_ms: 57660\n- text: It ain't over, it ain't over\n  start_ms: 57660\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 61940\n- text: The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  start_ms: 61940\n  end_ms: 63810\n- text: With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n  start_ms: 63810\n  end_ms: 66570\n- text: Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  start_ms: 66570\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 71920\n- text: My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  start_ms: 71920\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77540\n- text: Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  start_ms: 77540\n  end_ms: 80010\n- text: Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  start_ms: 80010\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85780\n- text: Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  start_ms: 85780\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: We know dice hits, one cream four\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98320\n- text: Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  start_ms: 98320\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102570\n- text: And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n  start_ms: 102570\n  end_ms: 104450\n- text: Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  start_ms: 104450\n  end_ms: 107160\n- text: You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  start_ms: 107160\n  end_ms: 109800\n- text: Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  start_ms: 109800\n  end_ms: 112470\n- text: And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 112470\n  end_ms: 115130\n- text: What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  start_ms: 115130\n  end_ms: 117800\n- text: Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n  start_ms: 117800\n  end_ms: 120570\n- text: After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  start_ms: 120570\n  end_ms: 123150\n- text: Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  start_ms: 123150\n  end_ms: 125920\n- text: Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  start_ms: 125920\n  end_ms: 128700\n- text: I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  start_ms: 128700\n  end_ms: 131450\n- text: Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  start_ms: 131450\n  end_ms: 134010\n- text: I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  start_ms: 134010\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 142260\n- text: Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n  start_ms: 142260\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: Violator, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146290\n- text: Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n  start_ms: 146290\n  end_ms: 149470\n- text: Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n  start_ms: 149470\n  end_ms: 152100\n- text: And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  start_ms: 152100\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 158410\n- text: Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  start_ms: 158410\n  end_ms: 161010\n- text: Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  start_ms: 161010\n  end_ms: 163780\n- text: See, I pop niggas like corn\n  start_ms: 163780\n  end_ms: 165600\n- text: And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  start_ms: 165600\n  end_ms: 168350\n- text: I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  start_ms: 168350\n  end_ms: 171050\n- text: Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  start_ms: 171050\n  end_ms: 173750\n- text: It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n  start_ms: 173750\n  end_ms: 177150\n- text: You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  start_ms: 177150\n  end_ms: 179980\n- text: See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n  start_ms: 179980\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 188430\n- text: Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  start_ms: 188430\n  end_ms: 190680\n- text: '''Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift'\n  start_ms: 190680\n  end_ms: 193830\n- text: Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  start_ms: 193830\n  end_ms: 196300\n- text: Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  start_ms: 196300\n  end_ms: 198920\n- text: Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  start_ms: 198920\n  end_ms: 201430\n- text: Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  start_ms: 201430\n  end_ms: 204180\n- text: '''Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there''s two of me, motherfucker'\n  start_ms: 204180\n  end_ms: 207370\n- text: You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  start_ms: 207370\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 217970\n- text: Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  start_ms: 217970\n  end_ms: 220760\n- text: Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  start_ms: 220760\n  end_ms: 223150\n- text: We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  start_ms: 223150\n  end_ms: 226230\n- text: My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  start_ms: 226230\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 231540\n- text: '''Cause nowadays you''ll only get wet with my dead arm'\n  start_ms: 231540\n  end_ms: 234200\n- text: Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n  start_ms: 234200\n  end_ms: 236860\n- text: Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  start_ms: 236860\n  end_ms: 239870\n- text: Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  start_ms: 239870\n  end_ms: 242110\n- text: Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  start_ms: 242110\n  end_ms: 244980\n- text: Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  start_ms: 244980\n  end_ms: 247950\n- text: I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n  start_ms: 247950\n  end_ms: 250310\n- text: Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  start_ms: 250310\n  end_ms: 253530\n- text: Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n  start_ms: 253530\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258970\n- text: Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  start_ms: 258970\n  end_ms: 261590\n- text: Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  start_ms: 261590\n  end_ms: 264090\n- text: My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  start_ms: 264090\n  end_ms: 266890\n- text: Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  start_ms: 266890\n  end_ms: 269620\n- text: My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  start_ms: 269620\n  end_ms: 272330\n- text: Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  start_ms: 272330\n  end_ms: 274980\n- text: And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  start_ms: 274980\n  end_ms: 277750\n- text: Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n  start_ms: 277750\n  end_ms: 280440\n- text: You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  start_ms: 280440\n  end_ms: 283210\n- text: Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  start_ms: 283210\n  end_ms: 285690\n- text: Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n  start_ms: 285690\n  end_ms: 288620\n- text: Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  start_ms: 288620\n  end_ms: 291080\n- text: Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  start_ms: 291080\n  end_ms: 294150\n- text: C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n  start_ms: 294150\n  end_ms: 296620\n- text: Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  start_ms: 296620\n  end_ms: 299710\n- text: Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  start_ms: 299710\n  end_ms: 302020\n- text: We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  start_ms: 302020\n  end_ms: 304900\n- text: Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  start_ms: 304900\n  end_ms: 307670\n- text: Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  start_ms: 307670\n  end_ms: 310150\n- text: The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  start_ms: 310150\n  end_ms: 312840\n- text: Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n  start_ms: 312840\n  end_ms: 316110\n- text: Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n  start_ms: 316110\n  end_ms: 320350\n- text: What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  start_ms: 320350\n  end_ms: 323550\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323550\n  end_ms: 325700\n- text: Cut that shit off now\n  start_ms: 325700\n  end_ms: 328780\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 328780\n  end_ms: 330560\n- text: Cut it off, nigga\n  start_ms: 330560\n  end_ms: 332080\n- text: Go\n  start_ms: 332080\n  end_ms: 336980\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 336980\nplain: |-\n  Let's get it started (Get it started)\n  Let's keep it started (Keep it started)\n  Violator (Yeah, yeah)\n  The album (Yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yo, yo, this is for my mob and my thug niggas, ruff rydin' bug niggas\n  Def Jam, website, violate the club niggas\n  Screamin', \"What? What?\" niggas, y'all a bunch of butt niggas\n  Always want figures, but never play the cut niggas\n  Talk mad shit, but never put up niggas\n  Is it 'cause I bust with stuff that just shut up niggas?\n  Flow like dro, I pull then clip it\n  Or mix it with some Moët and sip it\n  Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album with a snippet\n  Run up on your lawyer for your contract and rip it\n\n  Shame on your label for tryin' to let you eat at my seat\n  When they know I call my name at this table\n  I'm gon' always be here, and y'all always gon' fear\n\n  The Bronx, random records 'cause we always prepared\n  Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about\n\n  Buns by the tons, mad guns, and we goin' out, what?\n  It ain't over, it ain't over\n\n  Uh, uh, I'm the one with the chrome in\n  The clothes, drop flows from the dome\n  With the ice, got the price of a home and a load\n\n  Sonja Bladee, just so you know, baby\n  Hold eighty, roll through you and your old lady\n  My wrist is dough, maybe, gold AV matchin' the navi'\n  Shit you won't find in Old Navy\n  Two hundred zero AD, still live shit\n  Spit to divide cliques, on some wise guy shit\n  Same chick from the Vibe clip, pretty eyes, lips\n  Thighs, hips, everything five and six\n  Height five-six, jeans five-six\n  Benz green, five and six, heatin' five or six\n\n  We know dice hits, one cream four\n  For true green, five-six, Cee-Lo\n  Any ego, so how you flippin' grams, yo?\n  I'm touchin' keys like pianos\n  And gettin' dough like Tony Soprano\n\n  Ayo, my niggas is on the same level I'm on\n  You ask me why I'm Melvin Flint, I'm doin' the porn\n  Ayo, y'all niggas is faker than a three dollar bill\n  And I don't shoot to bust, yo, I shoot to kill\n  What's goin' on, yo? The jump off, the jump off slow\n  Yo, I'm in 5-0-0-0, pass that ho\n\n  After you get done with it, yo, let me hit it\n  Your bitches know how I come, I bring the cock with it\n  Order the Dom P., you know I gotta rock with it\n  I airplane the ho like I cockpit it\n  Yo, I love my niggas, don't love no chicks\n  I like to light the blunts, then I order my licks\n  Foundation, motherfucker, like the bottom of bricks\n  I'm from Iraq, nigga, with Dominican hits\n  Puerto Rican motherfuckers, yo, your fate they fix\n\n  Violator, motherfucker\n\n  Yo, yo, I told these niggas from the giddy-up\n\n  Y'all give me sixteen, I tear this whole city up\n\n  And niggas don't believe, then tell 'em put fifty up\n  All bets is down, all my thugs do dirt, all I text is rounds\n  Pop partner and his players disrespectin' clowns\n  Bringin' guns, weed, and coke to connects in town\n  See, I pop niggas like corn\n  And real killers do killings with the lights on\n  I knock 'em out 'cause I don't like to fight long\n  Remember me? Lefty gun up in my right palm\n  It's Mysonne, see Mysonne is the one that knock on your door\n\n  You open up, you see a whore with the Glock to your jaw\n  See, Mysonne is the one that hit the block with the raw\n\n  For his money, Mysonne air the block with the four\n  Y'all cowards don't want war, y'all can't stand pain\n\n  Cop you some gators, drink champagne\n  'Cause when it comes to this street shit, I let the heat lift\n  Murder scenes, police lines, nigga, white sheet shit\n  Y'all roll with niggas, I'm the one they roll with\n  Y'all go get niggas, I'm the one they go get\n  Y'all niggas don't want nothin' to do with me\n  'Cause I spit guns and rhymes like there's two of me, motherfucker\n\n  You niggas can't be serious, we wear guns like clothes\n  But only show 'em when it's time to blow 'em and bolt\n  We've been through way worse than war, razor fights and more\n\n  Left niggas with leaks, holes, and wide jaws\n  Be the quiet storm, fear how you on the scale fall\n  Check out your weight, see if it's worth to raw\n  We did the street life, y'all niggas just got involved\n  My appetite for guns is similar to carnivores\n  Dislike me, you head on, fight me, you dead wrong\n  'Cause nowadays you'll only get wet with my dead arm\n  Don't let the song twist you, the four hit you\n\n  Have you keyed up, gaspin' for breath on the floor crippled\n  Infamous, we take it to the extreme, my word\n  Especially when a nigga mistake me for Herb\n  Get buried over words, I'm loose with the Desert bird\n  I could show better than tell, you niggas heard\n\n  Giddy-up now, it's like we horseback saddlin'\n  Ride beats like we rowin' a boat and we paddlin'\n\n  Down a stream of water, wet any nigga challengin'\n  Blow one all in your kneecap, leavin' you staggerin'\n  Scramblin', 'cause there's a whole lot of shit we be handlin'\n  My hands all in the money, fuck it, we dibble and dabblin'\n  Got you imaginin' how this could really all be happenin'\n  My landscape of live niggas stretch from here to Maryland\n  Blow, put one in a nigga who be ramblin'\n  And blow a hundred thou' if y'all niggas is really gamblin'\n  Gritty niggas feel the snap, pop, even the cracklin'\n\n  You know the bouncer keep all of my live niggas rattlin'\n  Travelin' to see niggas from Howard U. to Grambling\n  Round up my niggas to form in large gatherings\n\n  Yo, rattle the niggas who want battlin'\n  Beat you in the same place until the bruise start blackenin'\n  C-E-O, niggas stay general managin'\n\n  Flipmode, dough in them heavy bundles we carryin', yo\n  Analyze how many live niggas crammin' in\n  We throw a three-pointer while y'all niggas throw a javelin\n  Sweatin' your whole shit, feel your clothes dampenin'\n  Dancin' in a line of four-wheel drives, we lampin' in\n  The gat be at arm's length up in the door panelin'\n  Unravelin' the truth on how niggas remain champions\n\n  Flipmode, Violator, we always silence shit\n\n  What the fuck is wrong with y'all?\n  Cut that shit off now\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Cut it off, nigga\n  Go\n"}]