[{"id":25672092,"name":"M.o.p - Face Off","trackName":"M.o.p - Face Off","artistName":"M.o.p","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":246.630063,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer want to pursue situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) You niggas keep testin' me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You still a bang-banger) One of Saratoga's finest\nBut first I'm farther than Shania, love me in your highness\nYo, Doug, what you stop for, man? What you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel\nAs I struggle to get my hands on a dollar today\nI think back about cats that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin' out my chest\nI smoke too many cigarettes\nAnd the Remi won't wash away the pain or get strain off my brain\nSee it's the way we roll down here, stroll out here\nA shootout is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunch time on the front line I will blast at y'all\nI'm from Saratoga Avenue, I had to brawl\nThat's where I realized it's a cold world after all\nYou hear me talkin' to y'all, I'm on some grown man shit\n(You'll be comin' of age)\nMy life is on a different page, able to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on the stage\nTake a look at me now, a born winner\nIn a race against time like Bruce Jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) Kill again\nYou are now tuned in to the works of Mar\nTake two steps back, it's gon' hurt you, pa\nWho the fuck talkin' that they gon' hurt Jamal?\nThis ain't no common stutter rapper, it's the llama stutter slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFour-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them O.G.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker, you can't be me\nIt's the Womack, the extension of Danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for train fare\nTwo Phillies, a dime bag and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at 'em, they hittin' the scene slow\nHoop ridin' in hoopties but I'm lookin' mean, yo\nWith a gangsta lean though, big doggin' it\nWith my chrome ten inch hub caps, but I keep 'em clean though\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dope fiend with\nA shoppin' cart filled up with copper\nWho the fuck gon' stop Fame?\nY'all niggas keep waitin' 'til they pop Fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait, bitch, I got game\nNiggas ain't feelin' the Fame, bitch, stop dreamin'\nI'm the shit that felt good comin' out with my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound, nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look, bitch, I'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin' with Thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin' with me\n'Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (Earth), nigga of the sea (Sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, flame fire\nWildin' out, dump back at your men\nIt's M.O.P. and we at it again, a-ha\nI ain't clappin' over your head, I'ma\nMake sure I pop somethin' through ya\nGivin' motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the Lord be with you, game over, you're dead","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: M.o.p - Face Off\n  artist: M.o.p\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 246630\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer want to pursue situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) You niggas keep testin' me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You still a bang-banger) One of Saratoga's finest\n  But first I'm farther than Shania, love me in your highness\n  Yo, Doug, what you stop for, man? What you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel\n  As I struggle to get my hands on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin' out my chest\n  I smoke too many cigarettes\n  And the Remi won't wash away the pain or get strain off my brain\n  See it's the way we roll down here, stroll out here\n  A shootout is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunch time on the front line I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from Saratoga Avenue, I had to brawl\n  That's where I realized it's a cold world after all\n  You hear me talkin' to y'all, I'm on some grown man shit\n  (You'll be comin' of age)\n  My life is on a different page, able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on the stage\n  Take a look at me now, a born winner\n  In a race against time like Bruce Jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) Kill again\n  You are now tuned in to the works of Mar\n  Take two steps back, it's gon' hurt you, pa\n  Who the fuck talkin' that they gon' hurt Jamal?\n  This ain't no common stutter rapper, it's the llama stutter slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Four-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them O.G.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker, you can't be me\n  It's the Womack, the extension of Danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for train fare\n  Two Phillies, a dime bag and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at 'em, they hittin' the scene slow\n  Hoop ridin' in hoopties but I'm lookin' mean, yo\n  With a gangsta lean though, big doggin' it\n  With my chrome ten inch hub caps, but I keep 'em clean though\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dope fiend with\n  A shoppin' cart filled up with copper\n  Who the fuck gon' stop Fame?\n  Y'all niggas keep waitin' 'til they pop Fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait, bitch, I got game\n  Niggas ain't feelin' the Fame, bitch, stop dreamin'\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin' out with my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound, nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look, bitch, I'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin' with Thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin' with me\n  'Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (Earth), nigga of the sea (Sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, flame fire\n  Wildin' out, dump back at your men\n  It's M.O.P. and we at it again, a-ha\n  I ain't clappin' over your head, I'ma\n  Make sure I pop somethin' through ya\n  Givin' motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the Lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n"},{"id":5529869,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":30407127,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":30678917,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P","albumName":"Rockin' Steadily (Limited International Edition)","duration":144.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P\n  album: Rockin' Steadily (Limited International Edition)\n  duration_ms: 144000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":14356693,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.o.p.","albumName":"Warriorz (Retail)","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.o.p.\n  album: Warriorz (Retail)\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":24246860,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz (Japan Edition)","duration":246.56,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz (Japan Edition)\n  duration_ms: 246560\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":10215009,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M․O․P․","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M․O․P․\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":28845461,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":251.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 251000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":28728802,"name":"face off","trackName":"face off","artistName":"M.O.P","albumName":"Worriorz","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: face off\n  artist: M.O.P\n  album: Worriorz\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":25444780,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Worriarz","duration":246.54675,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Worriarz\n  duration_ms: 246547\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":37352295,"name":"Face Off","trackName":"Face Off","artistName":"M.O.P","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":208.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off\n  artist: M.O.P\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 207919\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":14020754,"name":"Face Off 2K1","trackName":"Face Off 2K1","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":246.595918,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off 2K1\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 246596\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":28146763,"name":"Face off 2k1","trackName":"Face off 2k1","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":133.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face off 2k1\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 133000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (you control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (you're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (you'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (for no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":5529870,"name":"Face Off (Prod. DJ Premier)","trackName":"Face Off (Prod. DJ Premier)","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Billy danze]\nYo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\nI no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\nThey say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\nSo I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n(You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\nLike you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n(You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\nYo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\nTeach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\nAs I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\nI think back about cats, that have passed away\nThat's why I feel more cursed than blessed\nAnd I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\nI'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\nSometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\nI smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\nWash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\nSee it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\nA shootout, is like a common cold out here\nThat's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\nWhen it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\nI'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\nIt's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\nYou hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n(You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\nAble to tame my rage\nA little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\nA little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\nTake a look at me now; a born winner\nIn a race against time, like bruce jenner\nA natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n{*beat changes*}\n\n[Lil' fame]\nYou are now tuned in to the works of mart\nTake two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\nWho the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\nThis ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\nUnpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\nFo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\nWith them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\nLike bamboo with no trees in it\nFall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\nIt's the womack, the extension of danzini\nWe came into the game with some change for (?) fear\nTwo phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\nNow look at him, they hittin the scene slow\nWho grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\nWith a gangster lean though, big dog in it\nWith my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\nI know the pros and cons so I married the game\nNow it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\nI'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\nDouble (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\nY'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\nAnd hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\nNiggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\nI'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\nHit the streets and thug with me\nNo matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\nToo many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\nBut look bitch, i'ma let you know now\nYou fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\nI'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\nCause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\nNigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\nWhy don't i-ah, dump back at your men\nIt's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\nI ain't clappin over your head\nI'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\nGivin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\nHave your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\nMay the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\nMotherfucker!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off (Prod. DJ Premier)\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Billy danze]\n  Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)\n  I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly\n  They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be\n  So I switched the game around, and now it's on me\n  (You control your destiny) you niggaz keep testin me\n  Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be\n  (You're still a bang-banger) one of saratoga's finest\n  ? Attention now (?) makin your highness.\n\n  Yo bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?\n  Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!\n\n  As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today\n  I think back about cats, that have passed away\n  That's why I feel more cursed than blessed\n  And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress\n  I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse\n  Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest\n  I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the remi won't\n  Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain\n  See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here\n  A shootout, is like a common cold out here\n  That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all\n  When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all\n  I'm from saratoga avenue, I +had+ to brawl\n  It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all\n  You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown danze shit\n  (You'll be comin of age) my life is on a different page;\n  Able to tame my rage\n  A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge\n  A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage\n  Take a look at me now; a born winner\n  In a race against time, like bruce jenner\n  A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me\n  (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!\n\n  {*beat changes*}\n\n  [Lil' fame]\n  You are now tuned in to the works of mart\n  Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!\n  Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt jamal?\n  This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper\n  Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper\n  Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper\n  With them o.g.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted\n  Like bamboo with no trees in it\n  Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me\n  It's the womack, the extension of danzini\n  We came into the game with some change for (?) fear\n  Two phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer\n  Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow\n  Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo\n  With a gangster lean though, big dog in it\n  With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe\n  I know the pros and cons so I married the game\n  Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name\n  I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled\n  Double (?), who the fuck gon' stop fame?\n  Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop fame\n  And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game\n  Niggaz ain't feelin the fame bitch? stop dreamin\n  I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen\n  Hit the streets and thug with me\n  No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me\n  Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow\n  But look bitch, i'ma let you know now\n  You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?\n  I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me\n  Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)\n  Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire\n  Why don't i-ah, dump back at your men\n  It's m.o.p. and we at it again, ah-heh!\n  I ain't clappin over your head\n  I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya\n  Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead\n  Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed\n  May the lord be with you, game over, you're dead\n  Motherfucker!\n"},{"id":33646003,"name":"Face Off f. Termanology","trackName":"Face Off f. Termanology","artistName":"Reks; Styles P; Termanology; DJ Corbet; Freeway; Lil Fame of M.O.P.; Attica Bars","albumName":"Rhythmatic Eternal King Supreme","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reks and Term get your urn, get your hearses ready\nFor he versus Freddie, boy, we murder every beat\nGiving heat, driven medleys, I've already severed\nHeartbeats and arteries, honor E, king supreme philosophy\nFollow me, follow me, pussy, pardon me, possibly\nWe new, AZ, Nas, Jay-Z, big bars, you spit y'alls\n'Til we split the walls of seas and part Moses of flow-ers\nFocus them darts 'til hearts stop, 'til Sasquatch feet\nI repeat, this is art, you are not cyco-syllable\nMy lyrical's top-notch, leapfrog over y'all\nHopscotch, we brought Sha-Money for harmony\nI'ma need y'all to promise me lots of accolades and praise\nFor two rappers bringing it back to back in the days\nMinus the chains, the East need their king back\nSo we came to be that, boss, Reks and Term, it's the face-off\n\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\nA deadly duo is a duo that can do it deadly\nCyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\nFace-to-face, let's face-off\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\nCyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\nFace-to-face, let's face-off\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n\nTermanology\nThe definition of horrific, sadistic, animalistic\nExpressive, vicious lyricism, call me cannibalistic\nI will eat any rapper that got beef\nYou looking like red meat and I got dinosaur teeth, I repeat\nI'm a monster, running through the alleys of your conscious\nCatch you at your concert and stretch you like a Charleston\nAnd chew the way I do, chew rappers up and then I spit 'em out\nThis ain't nothing to kid about, leave jism on your bitch's blouse\nI'm on a mission now, bullets, pistols, missiles, blaow\nPull up with my chick, she's wise\nShe'll stick you, kiss you, kill you, wow\nI'm in my shrink's office, plotting on the Brink's truckers\nFull of long money, Shawn Money made this beat awesome\nYou wanna face-off, me and Reks already ready\nMy machete is deadly, it cut through your Pelle Pelle\nSo let's battle, what you bring it? Better go hard\nWhen you hear that show-off show off, know your dough gone\n\nA deadly duo is a duo that can do it deadly\nCyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\nFace-to-face, let's face-off\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\nCyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\nFace-to-face, let's face-off\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n\nReks\nTrust me, they do not want it\nI'm fantastic, hop out a minivan, blast it\nI'm trash, I'm coming to fans' eyelashes\nIt's murder masters, duo double murder assassins\nKilling everybody, making money off of your ashes\n\nHurl on enemies' caskets, send my sympathy past his\nMinister, senator, sentences, I send 'em to Abbess\nPardon the business, I'm vicious, lyricism Jurassic\nPencil and pad shit past these modern rap bastards\nPoliticking with Term, how we gon' earn?\nThese rappers getting shredded, beheaded, pick a new cranium, set it\n\nCall the medic, I said it, I mean I meant it\nDepending on how much lettuce I get, I will leave you shredded\nSo forget it, call the ambulance, leave you looking anonymous\nLike mannequins, me and my Hispanic clique be on some satanic shit\n\nMe and my conglomerate, dominant, pencil prominent\nPoetry pondered, partners spit, all you can do is honor it\n\nA deadly duo is a duo that can do it deadly\nCyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\nFace-to-face, let's face-off\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\nCyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\nFace-to-face, let's face-off\nFace-off, face-off, face-off, face-off","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Face Off f. Termanology\n  artist: Reks; Styles P; Termanology; DJ Corbet; Freeway; Lil Fame of M.O.P.; Attica Bars\n  album: Rhythmatic Eternal King Supreme\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Reks and Term get your urn, get your hearses ready\n  For he versus Freddie, boy, we murder every beat\n  Giving heat, driven medleys, I've already severed\n  Heartbeats and arteries, honor E, king supreme philosophy\n  Follow me, follow me, pussy, pardon me, possibly\n  We new, AZ, Nas, Jay-Z, big bars, you spit y'alls\n  'Til we split the walls of seas and part Moses of flow-ers\n  Focus them darts 'til hearts stop, 'til Sasquatch feet\n  I repeat, this is art, you are not cyco-syllable\n  My lyrical's top-notch, leapfrog over y'all\n  Hopscotch, we brought Sha-Money for harmony\n  I'ma need y'all to promise me lots of accolades and praise\n  For two rappers bringing it back to back in the days\n  Minus the chains, the East need their king back\n  So we came to be that, boss, Reks and Term, it's the face-off\n\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n  A deadly duo is a duo that can do it deadly\n  Cyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\n  Face-to-face, let's face-off\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n  Cyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\n  Face-to-face, let's face-off\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n\n  Termanology\n  The definition of horrific, sadistic, animalistic\n  Expressive, vicious lyricism, call me cannibalistic\n  I will eat any rapper that got beef\n  You looking like red meat and I got dinosaur teeth, I repeat\n  I'm a monster, running through the alleys of your conscious\n  Catch you at your concert and stretch you like a Charleston\n  And chew the way I do, chew rappers up and then I spit 'em out\n  This ain't nothing to kid about, leave jism on your bitch's blouse\n  I'm on a mission now, bullets, pistols, missiles, blaow\n  Pull up with my chick, she's wise\n  She'll stick you, kiss you, kill you, wow\n  I'm in my shrink's office, plotting on the Brink's truckers\n  Full of long money, Shawn Money made this beat awesome\n  You wanna face-off, me and Reks already ready\n  My machete is deadly, it cut through your Pelle Pelle\n  So let's battle, what you bring it? Better go hard\n  When you hear that show-off show off, know your dough gone\n\n  A deadly duo is a duo that can do it deadly\n  Cyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\n  Face-to-face, let's face-off\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n  Cyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\n  Face-to-face, let's face-off\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n\n  Reks\n  Trust me, they do not want it\n  I'm fantastic, hop out a minivan, blast it\n  I'm trash, I'm coming to fans' eyelashes\n  It's murder masters, duo double murder assassins\n  Killing everybody, making money off of your ashes\n\n  Hurl on enemies' caskets, send my sympathy past his\n  Minister, senator, sentences, I send 'em to Abbess\n  Pardon the business, I'm vicious, lyricism Jurassic\n  Pencil and pad shit past these modern rap bastards\n  Politicking with Term, how we gon' earn?\n  These rappers getting shredded, beheaded, pick a new cranium, set it\n\n  Call the medic, I said it, I mean I meant it\n  Depending on how much lettuce I get, I will leave you shredded\n  So forget it, call the ambulance, leave you looking anonymous\n  Like mannequins, me and my Hispanic clique be on some satanic shit\n\n  Me and my conglomerate, dominant, pencil prominent\n  Poetry pondered, partners spit, all you can do is honor it\n\n  A deadly duo is a duo that can do it deadly\n  Cyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\n  Face-to-face, let's face-off\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n  Cyclo-syllable, I'll go lyrical, apeshit\n  Face-to-face, let's face-off\n  Face-off, face-off, face-off, face-off\n"}]