[{"id":23468418,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"M.O.P. Presents Marxmen Cinema","duration":117.0281,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: M.O.P. Presents Marxmen Cinema\n  duration_ms: 117028\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":12170218,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"Moop Mama","albumName":"M.O.O.P.Topia","duration":81.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: Moop Mama\n  album: M.O.O.P.Topia\n  duration_ms: 81000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":6264730,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Warriorz","duration":94.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Warriorz\n  duration_ms: 94000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":6319821,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Firing Squad","duration":50.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"...","syncedLyrics":"[00:04.80] Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n[00:06.47] It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n[00:07.45] Real life, real lyrics\n[00:08.22] Happy P, El Coyote\n[00:08.71] The real, recognize the real\n[00:09.55] Dope House Records\n[00:10.01] Dope sells itself, always\n[00:10.67] Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n[00:10.81] I'm here til I go\n[00:11.36] It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n[00:11.98] It's about family\n[00:12.49] Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n[00:12.77] We came from so far\n[00:12.90] You can love me or hate me\n[00:13.23] It's all gravy\n[00:13.71] Mama couldn't raise me\n[00:14.21] And dope fiends paid me\n[00:14.58] Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n[00:15.00] One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n[00:15.35] And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n[00:15.55] See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n[00:15.85] See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n[00:16.35] No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n[00:16.88] But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n[00:17.12] The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n[00:17.62] 'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n[00:18.13] And ain't no angel up above like that\n[00:18.48] And I pray\n[00:18.93] That she don't have to see the things I saw\n[00:19.20] Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n[00:19.72] Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n[00:20.03] Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n[00:20.58] Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n[00:21.07] For what?\n[00:21.35] Just to brag when some hoes around\n[00:21.89] And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n[00:22.13] That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n[00:22.17] So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n[00:22.66] And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n[00:22.85] And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n[00:23.13] That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n[00:23.65] A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n[00:23.94] I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n[00:24.40] I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n[00:24.76] I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n[00:25.27] Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n[00:26.01] Smoke in my nerve-a\n[00:26.28] I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n[00:26.85] Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n[00:27.31] You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n[00:27.33] You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n[00:27.81] I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n[00:28.17] And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n[00:28.39] But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n[00:28.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Firing Squad\n  duration_ms: 50000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  start_ms: 4800\n  end_ms: 6470\n- text: It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  start_ms: 6470\n  end_ms: 7450\n- text: Real life, real lyrics\n  start_ms: 7450\n  end_ms: 8220\n- text: Happy P, El Coyote\n  start_ms: 8220\n  end_ms: 8710\n- text: The real, recognize the real\n  start_ms: 8710\n  end_ms: 9550\n- text: Dope House Records\n  start_ms: 9550\n  end_ms: 10010\n- text: Dope sells itself, always\n  start_ms: 10010\n  end_ms: 10670\n- text: Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n  start_ms: 10670\n  end_ms: 10810\n- text: I'm here til I go\n  start_ms: 10810\n  end_ms: 11360\n- text: It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  start_ms: 11360\n  end_ms: 11980\n- text: It's about family\n  start_ms: 11980\n  end_ms: 12490\n- text: Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  start_ms: 12490\n  end_ms: 12770\n- text: We came from so far\n  start_ms: 12770\n  end_ms: 12900\n- text: You can love me or hate me\n  start_ms: 12900\n  end_ms: 13230\n- text: It's all gravy\n  start_ms: 13230\n  end_ms: 13710\n- text: Mama couldn't raise me\n  start_ms: 13710\n  end_ms: 14210\n- text: And dope fiends paid me\n  start_ms: 14210\n  end_ms: 14580\n- text: Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  start_ms: 14580\n  end_ms: 15000\n- text: One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  start_ms: 15000\n  end_ms: 15350\n- text: And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  start_ms: 15350\n  end_ms: 15550\n- text: See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n  start_ms: 15550\n  end_ms: 15850\n- text: See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  start_ms: 15850\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 16880\n- text: But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  start_ms: 16880\n  end_ms: 17120\n- text: The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n  start_ms: 17120\n  end_ms: 17620\n- text: '''Cause I ain''t never known love like that'\n  start_ms: 17620\n  end_ms: 18130\n- text: And ain't no angel up above like that\n  start_ms: 18130\n  end_ms: 18480\n- text: And I pray\n  start_ms: 18480\n  end_ms: 18930\n- text: That she don't have to see the things I saw\n  start_ms: 18930\n  end_ms: 19200\n- text: Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  start_ms: 19200\n  end_ms: 19720\n- text: Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  start_ms: 19720\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 20580\n- text: Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n  start_ms: 20580\n  end_ms: 21070\n- text: For what?\n  start_ms: 21070\n  end_ms: 21350\n- text: Just to brag when some hoes around\n  start_ms: 21350\n  end_ms: 21890\n- text: And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  start_ms: 21890\n  end_ms: 22130\n- text: That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n  start_ms: 22130\n  end_ms: 22170\n- text: So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  start_ms: 22170\n  end_ms: 22660\n- text: And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  start_ms: 22660\n  end_ms: 22850\n- text: And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  start_ms: 22850\n  end_ms: 23130\n- text: That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n  start_ms: 23130\n  end_ms: 23650\n- text: A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  start_ms: 23650\n  end_ms: 23940\n- text: I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  start_ms: 23940\n  end_ms: 24400\n- text: I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  start_ms: 24400\n  end_ms: 24760\n- text: I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n  start_ms: 24760\n  end_ms: 25270\n- text: Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  start_ms: 25270\n  end_ms: 26010\n- text: Smoke in my nerve-a\n  start_ms: 26010\n  end_ms: 26280\n- text: I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  start_ms: 26280\n  end_ms: 26850\n- text: Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n  start_ms: 26850\n  end_ms: 27310\n- text: You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  start_ms: 27310\n  end_ms: 27330\n- text: You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  start_ms: 27330\n  end_ms: 27810\n- text: I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  start_ms: 27810\n  end_ms: 28170\n- text: And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  start_ms: 28170\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 28690\nplain: '...'\n"},{"id":18915211,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Ghetto Warfare","duration":58.148571,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Ghetto Warfare\n  duration_ms: 58149\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":19130011,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P","albumName":"Bad Boys 2 OST","duration":12.8,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P\n  album: Bad Boys 2 OST\n  duration_ms: 12800\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":23900861,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Firing Squad [by Hillside]","duration":50.3455,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Firing Squad [by Hillside]\n  duration_ms: 50346\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":23885169,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Marxmen Cinema","duration":115.043265,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Marxmen Cinema\n  duration_ms: 115043\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":21946647,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"The Underground Legends","duration":32.548571,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: The Underground Legends\n  duration_ms: 32549\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":24531154,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"Ghetto Warfare","duration":38.948571,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\nIt's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\nReal life, real lyrics\nHappy P, El Coyote\n\nThe real, recognize the real\nDope House Records\nDope sells itself, always\nFuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\nI'm here til I go\nIt ain't about money, it ain't about fame\nIt's about family\nDamn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\nWe came from so far\n\nYou can love me or hate me\nIt's all gravy\nMama couldn't raise me\nAnd dope fiends paid me\n\nTook what I learned in the streets to make beats\nOne million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\nAnd I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\nSee as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\nSee as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\nNo money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\nBut now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\nThe greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n'Cause I ain't never known love like that\nAnd ain't no angel up above like that\nAnd I pray\nThat she don't have to see the things I saw\n\nToo many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\nWit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\nNiggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\nFake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\nFor what?\nJust to brag when some hoes around\nAnd you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\nThat ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\nSo I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\nAnd everything I say be silent, so that's that\nAnd we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\nThat's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\nA biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\nI'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\nI'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\nI sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\nTable turner, sellin' pearl-a\nSmoke in my nerve-a\nI'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\nBoys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\nYou bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\nYou can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\nI couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\nAnd it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\nBut if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: Ghetto Warfare\n  duration_ms: 38949\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yepa, Yepa, homeboy\n  It's the Lone Star Rida, Low G\n  Real life, real lyrics\n  Happy P, El Coyote\n\n  The real, recognize the real\n  Dope House Records\n  Dope sells itself, always\n  Fuck a friend, fuck a hoe\n\n  I'm here til I go\n  It ain't about money, it ain't about fame\n  It's about family\n  Damn, we so close, but these niggas don't understand\n  We came from so far\n\n  You can love me or hate me\n  It's all gravy\n  Mama couldn't raise me\n  And dope fiends paid me\n\n  Took what I learned in the streets to make beats\n  One million dollars later, still smokin' Swisher Sweets\n  And I remember way back, way back in the ghetto\n  See as far as I can remember niggas called me Hap.\n\n  See as far as I can remember I was po' and broke\n  No money in my pocket and no weed to smoke\n  But now thangs changed, see it's been a little better lately\n  The greatest blessin' in my life has been my baby (huh)\n\n  'Cause I ain't never known love like that\n  And ain't no angel up above like that\n  And I pray\n  That she don't have to see the things I saw\n\n  Too many murdered friends and niggas behind bars\n  Wit cut-throat niggas, scandalous ass bitches\n  Niggas blowin' they brains out, so vicious\n  Fake niggas, kickin' niggas doors down\n\n  For what?\n  Just to brag when some hoes around\n  And you call yourself a gangsta, a hustla, a playa? (huh)\n  That ain't nothing if The Lord ain't yo Savior\n\n  So I kick back, and put my heart on this gat\n  And everything I say be silent, so that's that\n  And we blessed, foo, so let's bow my niggas (huh)\n  That's why I made this here for all of my niggas\n\n  A biggie bang to the boogie woogie shoobeedoowap\n  I'm doin' 120 racin' this {new eye rop}?\n  I'm a worka in the dirtiest game on planet earth-a\n  I sip the shit that come in a little jar of Gerber\n\n  Table turner, sellin' pearl-a\n  Smoke in my nerve-a\n  I'm 1-800-MURDER, I packs the Big Bertha\n  Boys lookin' at me funny, my palm get sweaty\n\n  You bitches cryin' over spilled spaghetti\n  You can ask my gal, I used to be broke as hell\n  I couldn't pay my doctor for my in-grown toe nail\n  And it's a trip, 'cause I ain't even broke a sweat\n  But if I turn around, you see my back is soakin' wet\n"},{"id":20614577,"name":"Flip Intro","trackName":"Flip Intro","artistName":"M.O.P.","albumName":"St. Marxmen","duration":67.975917,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Flip Intro\n  artist: M.O.P.\n  album: St. Marxmen\n  duration_ms: 67976\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":5947442,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"Jim Jones","albumName":"Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product Of My Environment)","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on, come on\nCome on give me that double give me that double, Give it to me\nYou never knew what it took to get here\nThey say life dont stop for no one\nSo I'm going back in my people\nThis what ya'll wanted right? You said you wanted the truth\nSo I solemnly swear, that the truth be told I'm thuggin to the day I die\nIt's Dipset, it's more than just music now\nIt's a way of life, it's more than the 200 hundred\nYears of blood sweat and tears\nHo stand me? For all my ballers,\nMy day crawlers... It's bigger than Nino Brown\n\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nIt must of been a obsession, Had to make it large (Dreams)\nStarted my progression, I'd stay stayed with the huds (Down South)\nNow it's private jets, smokin' haze what the stars (G4)\nQuarter mill write the check is how we for the car (What's The Price?)\nSwitchin' lanes up 7th, Are we racin' the cars (Harlem)\nBut the boys still stressin', I'm facin' the charge (Yay-Ya Be Trippin')\nStill prayin' to God, Cause lifes not promised,\nNot even manana (Fuck tomorrow)\nRemember movin' bricks, paranoid bout ehanas\nOr even at the club, an them boys and then behind us\nI'm chasin' death, gettin' closer to 30 (Gettin Older)\nSunny outside, but the work is dirty\nDays out, Harlem nights, over in Jersey\nIn my rare view goin' home cause the vultures is thirsty (I See Em)\nPull that doubt you won't catch me in traffic\nDark tints on the V, when I lack it's the ratchet, bastidd\n\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nNow I'm the leader of the pack, Can't help to think back\nHow I was eager to sell crack, I thought it was the shit (Damn)\nWhen they talk about my influence,\nI thought of uncle Ricky (Uncle Ricky Wha's Good)\nHe used to call up on his flip, he start snortin' on his shit\nThe same life had me gas'd, when I bought my first vic\nI was heavy on the gas, when I bought my first whip\nI thought I was the shit, you couldn't tell me nothing\nI was 16, I told the teacha \"You can feel me fuck em\" (Feel Me Nigga)\nJust any suits, pullin' up to club in Beamer coups\nGettin' cash (Gettin' Cash)\nWe livin' fast (Fast)\nDifferent women every night, couple of bitches clashed (Fuck You Bitches)\nI just laughed (Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Now Listen)\nI almost got wiped out on the wave, Thought 11 was tsunami\nFor the prices of the yay (Fuck The City Up)\nThe hustlas, they know the saga of the story (I Know The Story)\nWe live sucka free and show problems to authority\n\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nOne... Two, Feds comin' for you\nThree... Four, Betta' watch the law\nFive... Six, If you start pumpin' bricks\nSeven... Eight, hope it ain't heavy weight\n\nFerrari dreams, feds spooked me in my nightmare\nI tried to scream like Freddy Kruegers' in my nightmare\n(Livin' For The Fame)\nSo a nigga scared to go to sleep\nUntil the day break, I'm tearin' up the street\nPorsche'n with the clutch, ballin' like the play off's\nTop goin' 40 on the floor, with the safe off\n12 car convoyed a road full of race cars\nTill' the pilot give me 5 minutes before he take off (Roll Up)\n\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nThat's my conclusion... See it's the fast life we livin'...\nSo I'm ah tell you, if you in the left lane\nKeep going cause they right on your heels nigga (Squalieee)\nAnd if they catch you, that's your ass...\nAnd if you blink nigga, your life could be over (We Got No Time For Sleep)\nI keep sayin' the rap game is like the crack game\nCause we could all end up dead or in jail\nThey got us under surveillance...\nAnd to all my niggas behind the g-wall (My Soldiers)\nInhale, exhale... Shake your nuts if you have to (East Side)\nAnd all the political soldiers that ain't never comin' home (RIP Too)\nTo all my homies, East Side...\nWhile you in your cell, raise hell to this (Roll Call)\nI do this for ya'll (Dipset)... I feel ya' pain (I'm On The Same Route)\nI know what it's like hittin' the streets at ah early\nAge to deal cocaine (It's Ah Cold World)\nSurvival, It's all about the struggle (We Gotta' Eat)...\nSo I dedicate this to you (My Soldiers)\nKeep your head up and your eyes open...\nStay focused, It's us against them\nI'd never let them take me alive, take me alive.\n\nTake a journey wit ya' boy, let's ride.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: Jim Jones\n  album: Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product Of My Environment)\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Come on, come on\n  Come on give me that double give me that double, Give it to me\n  You never knew what it took to get here\n  They say life dont stop for no one\n  So I'm going back in my people\n  This what ya'll wanted right? You said you wanted the truth\n  So I solemnly swear, that the truth be told I'm thuggin to the day I die\n  It's Dipset, it's more than just music now\n  It's a way of life, it's more than the 200 hundred\n  Years of blood sweat and tears\n  Ho stand me? For all my ballers,\n  My day crawlers... It's bigger than Nino Brown\n\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  It must of been a obsession, Had to make it large (Dreams)\n  Started my progression, I'd stay stayed with the huds (Down South)\n  Now it's private jets, smokin' haze what the stars (G4)\n  Quarter mill write the check is how we for the car (What's The Price?)\n  Switchin' lanes up 7th, Are we racin' the cars (Harlem)\n  But the boys still stressin', I'm facin' the charge (Yay-Ya Be Trippin')\n  Still prayin' to God, Cause lifes not promised,\n  Not even manana (Fuck tomorrow)\n  Remember movin' bricks, paranoid bout ehanas\n  Or even at the club, an them boys and then behind us\n  I'm chasin' death, gettin' closer to 30 (Gettin Older)\n  Sunny outside, but the work is dirty\n  Days out, Harlem nights, over in Jersey\n  In my rare view goin' home cause the vultures is thirsty (I See Em)\n  Pull that doubt you won't catch me in traffic\n  Dark tints on the V, when I lack it's the ratchet, bastidd\n\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  Now I'm the leader of the pack, Can't help to think back\n  How I was eager to sell crack, I thought it was the shit (Damn)\n  When they talk about my influence,\n  I thought of uncle Ricky (Uncle Ricky Wha's Good)\n  He used to call up on his flip, he start snortin' on his shit\n  The same life had me gas'd, when I bought my first vic\n  I was heavy on the gas, when I bought my first whip\n  I thought I was the shit, you couldn't tell me nothing\n  I was 16, I told the teacha \"You can feel me fuck em\" (Feel Me Nigga)\n  Just any suits, pullin' up to club in Beamer coups\n  Gettin' cash (Gettin' Cash)\n  We livin' fast (Fast)\n  Different women every night, couple of bitches clashed (Fuck You Bitches)\n  I just laughed (Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Now Listen)\n  I almost got wiped out on the wave, Thought 11 was tsunami\n  For the prices of the yay (Fuck The City Up)\n  The hustlas, they know the saga of the story (I Know The Story)\n  We live sucka free and show problems to authority\n\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  One... Two, Feds comin' for you\n  Three... Four, Betta' watch the law\n  Five... Six, If you start pumpin' bricks\n  Seven... Eight, hope it ain't heavy weight\n\n  Ferrari dreams, feds spooked me in my nightmare\n  I tried to scream like Freddy Kruegers' in my nightmare\n  (Livin' For The Fame)\n  So a nigga scared to go to sleep\n  Until the day break, I'm tearin' up the street\n  Porsche'n with the clutch, ballin' like the play off's\n  Top goin' 40 on the floor, with the safe off\n  12 car convoyed a road full of race cars\n  Till' the pilot give me 5 minutes before he take off (Roll Up)\n\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  That's my conclusion... See it's the fast life we livin'...\n  So I'm ah tell you, if you in the left lane\n  Keep going cause they right on your heels nigga (Squalieee)\n  And if they catch you, that's your ass...\n  And if you blink nigga, your life could be over (We Got No Time For Sleep)\n  I keep sayin' the rap game is like the crack game\n  Cause we could all end up dead or in jail\n  They got us under surveillance...\n  And to all my niggas behind the g-wall (My Soldiers)\n  Inhale, exhale... Shake your nuts if you have to (East Side)\n  And all the political soldiers that ain't never comin' home (RIP Too)\n  To all my homies, East Side...\n  While you in your cell, raise hell to this (Roll Call)\n  I do this for ya'll (Dipset)... I feel ya' pain (I'm On The Same Route)\n  I know what it's like hittin' the streets at ah early\n  Age to deal cocaine (It's Ah Cold World)\n  Survival, It's all about the struggle (We Gotta' Eat)...\n  So I dedicate this to you (My Soldiers)\n  Keep your head up and your eyes open...\n  Stay focused, It's us against them\n  I'd never let them take me alive, take me alive.\n\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy, let's ride.\n"},{"id":9691697,"name":"Intro","trackName":"Intro","artistName":"Jim Jones feat. Max B","albumName":"Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product of My Environment)","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on, come on\nCome on give me that double give me that double, Give it to me\nYou never knew what it took to get here\nThey say life dont stop for no one\nSo I'm going back in my people\nThis what ya'll wanted right? You said you wanted the truth\nSo I solemnly swear, that the truth be told I'm thuggin to the day I die\nIt's Dipset, it's more than just music now\nIt's a way of life, it's more than the 200 hundred years of blood sweat and tears\nHo stand me? For all my ballers, my day crawlers... It's bigger than Nino Brown\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nIt must of been a obsession, Had to make it large (Dreams)\nStarted my progression, I'd stay stayed with the huds (Down South)\nNow it's private jets, smokin' haze what the stars (G4)\nQuarter mill write the check is how we for the car (What's The Price?)\nSwitchin' lanes up 7th, Are we racin' the cars (Harlem)\nBut the boys still stressin', I'm facin' the charge (Yay-Ya Be Trippin')\nStill prayin' to God, Cause lifes not promised, not even manana (Fuck tomorrow)\nRemember movin' bricks, paranoid bout ehanas\nOr even at the club, an them boys and then behind us\nI'm chasin' death, gettin' closer to 30 (Gettin Older)\nSunny outside, but the work is dirty\nDays out, Harlem nights, over in Jersey\nIn my rare view goin' home cause the vultures is thirsty (I See Em)\nPull that doubt you won't catch me in traffic\nDark tints on the V, when I lack it's the ratchet, bastidd\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nNow I'm the leader of the pack, Can't help to think back\nHow I was eager to sell crack, I thought it was the shit (Damn)\nWhen they talk about my influence, I thought of uncle Ricky (Uncle Ricky Wha's Good)\nHe used to call up on his flip, he start snortin' on his shit\nThe same life had me gas'd, when I bought my first vic\nI was heavy on the gas, when I bought my first whip\nI thought I was the shit, you couldn't tell me nothing\nI was 16, I told the teacha \"You can feel me fuck em\" (Feel Me Nigga)\nJust any suits, pullin' up to club in Beamer coups\nGettin' cash (Gettin' Cash)\nWe livin' fast (Fast)\nDifferent women every night, couple of bitches clashed (Fuck You Bitches)\nI just laughed (Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Now Listen)\n\nI almost got wiped out on the wave, Thought 11 was tsunami\nFor the prices of the yay (Fuck The City Up)\nThe hustlas, they know the saga of the story (I Know The Story)\nWe live sucka free and show problems to authority\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nOne... Two, Feds comin' for you\nThree... Four, Betta' watch the law\nFive... Six, If you start pumpin' bricks\nSeven... Eight, hope it ain't heavy weight\n\nFerrari dreams, feds spooked me in my nightmare\nI tried to scream like Freddy Kruegers' in my nightmare (Livin' For The Fame)\nSo a nigga scared to go to sleep\nUntil the day break, I'm tearin' up the street\nPorsche'n with the clutch, ballin' like the play off's\nTop goin' 40 on the floor, with the safe off\n12 car convoyed a road full of race cars\nTill' the pilot give me 5 minutes before he take off (Roll Up)\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nThat's my conclusion... See it's the fast life we livin'...\nSo I'm ah tell you, if you in the left lane\nkeep going cause they right on your heels nigga (Squalieee)\nAnd if they catch you, that's your ass...\nAnd if you blink nigga, your life could be over (We Got No Time For Sleep)\nI keep sayin' the rap game is like the crack game\nCause we could all end up dead or in jail\nThey got us under surveillance...\nAnd to all my niggas behind the g-wall (My Soldiers)\nInhale, exhale... Shake your nuts if you have to (East Side)\nAnd all the political soldiers that ain't never comin' home (RIP Too)\nTo all my homies, East Side...\nWhile you in your cell, raise hell to this (Roll Call)\nI do this for ya'll (Dipset)... I feel ya' pain (I'm On The Same Route)\nI know what it's like hittin' the streets at ah early age to deal cocaine (It's Ah Cold World)\nSurvival, It's all about the struggle (We Gotta' Eat)...\nSo I dedicate this to you (My Soldiers)\nKeep your head up and your eyes open...\nStay focused, It's us against them\nI'd never let them take me alive, take me alive.\n\nTake a journey wit ya' boy, let's ride.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro\n  artist: Jim Jones feat. Max B\n  album: Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product of My Environment)\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Come on, come on\n  Come on give me that double give me that double, Give it to me\n  You never knew what it took to get here\n  They say life dont stop for no one\n  So I'm going back in my people\n  This what ya'll wanted right? You said you wanted the truth\n  So I solemnly swear, that the truth be told I'm thuggin to the day I die\n  It's Dipset, it's more than just music now\n  It's a way of life, it's more than the 200 hundred years of blood sweat and tears\n  Ho stand me? For all my ballers, my day crawlers... It's bigger than Nino Brown\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  It must of been a obsession, Had to make it large (Dreams)\n  Started my progression, I'd stay stayed with the huds (Down South)\n  Now it's private jets, smokin' haze what the stars (G4)\n  Quarter mill write the check is how we for the car (What's The Price?)\n  Switchin' lanes up 7th, Are we racin' the cars (Harlem)\n  But the boys still stressin', I'm facin' the charge (Yay-Ya Be Trippin')\n  Still prayin' to God, Cause lifes not promised, not even manana (Fuck tomorrow)\n  Remember movin' bricks, paranoid bout ehanas\n  Or even at the club, an them boys and then behind us\n  I'm chasin' death, gettin' closer to 30 (Gettin Older)\n  Sunny outside, but the work is dirty\n  Days out, Harlem nights, over in Jersey\n  In my rare view goin' home cause the vultures is thirsty (I See Em)\n  Pull that doubt you won't catch me in traffic\n  Dark tints on the V, when I lack it's the ratchet, bastidd\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  Now I'm the leader of the pack, Can't help to think back\n  How I was eager to sell crack, I thought it was the shit (Damn)\n  When they talk about my influence, I thought of uncle Ricky (Uncle Ricky Wha's Good)\n  He used to call up on his flip, he start snortin' on his shit\n  The same life had me gas'd, when I bought my first vic\n  I was heavy on the gas, when I bought my first whip\n  I thought I was the shit, you couldn't tell me nothing\n  I was 16, I told the teacha \"You can feel me fuck em\" (Feel Me Nigga)\n  Just any suits, pullin' up to club in Beamer coups\n  Gettin' cash (Gettin' Cash)\n  We livin' fast (Fast)\n  Different women every night, couple of bitches clashed (Fuck You Bitches)\n  I just laughed (Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Now Listen)\n\n  I almost got wiped out on the wave, Thought 11 was tsunami\n  For the prices of the yay (Fuck The City Up)\n  The hustlas, they know the saga of the story (I Know The Story)\n  We live sucka free and show problems to authority\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  One... Two, Feds comin' for you\n  Three... Four, Betta' watch the law\n  Five... Six, If you start pumpin' bricks\n  Seven... Eight, hope it ain't heavy weight\n\n  Ferrari dreams, feds spooked me in my nightmare\n  I tried to scream like Freddy Kruegers' in my nightmare (Livin' For The Fame)\n  So a nigga scared to go to sleep\n  Until the day break, I'm tearin' up the street\n  Porsche'n with the clutch, ballin' like the play off's\n  Top goin' 40 on the floor, with the safe off\n  12 car convoyed a road full of race cars\n  Till' the pilot give me 5 minutes before he take off (Roll Up)\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  That's my conclusion... See it's the fast life we livin'...\n  So I'm ah tell you, if you in the left lane\n  keep going cause they right on your heels nigga (Squalieee)\n  And if they catch you, that's your ass...\n  And if you blink nigga, your life could be over (We Got No Time For Sleep)\n  I keep sayin' the rap game is like the crack game\n  Cause we could all end up dead or in jail\n  They got us under surveillance...\n  And to all my niggas behind the g-wall (My Soldiers)\n  Inhale, exhale... Shake your nuts if you have to (East Side)\n  And all the political soldiers that ain't never comin' home (RIP Too)\n  To all my homies, East Side...\n  While you in your cell, raise hell to this (Roll Call)\n  I do this for ya'll (Dipset)... I feel ya' pain (I'm On The Same Route)\n  I know what it's like hittin' the streets at ah early age to deal cocaine (It's Ah Cold World)\n  Survival, It's all about the struggle (We Gotta' Eat)...\n  So I dedicate this to you (My Soldiers)\n  Keep your head up and your eyes open...\n  Stay focused, It's us against them\n  I'd never let them take me alive, take me alive.\n\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy, let's ride.\n"},{"id":14192608,"name":"Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody Van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)","trackName":"Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody Van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)","artistName":"Alex M.O.R.P.H.","albumName":"Walk The Edge","duration":634.0702,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I am standing on the mountain so high\nWatching birds flying by\nAnd my heart is full of desire\n\nThis will all I have in the sight\nOnly now I ask myself why\nThis word is so cruel, sometimes","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody Van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)\n  artist: Alex M.O.R.P.H.\n  album: Walk The Edge\n  duration_ms: 634070\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  I am standing on the mountain so high\n  Watching birds flying by\n  And my heart is full of desire\n\n  This will all I have in the sight\n  Only now I ask myself why\n  This word is so cruel, sometimes\n"},{"id":11119128,"name":"Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)","trackName":"Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)","artistName":"M.O.R.P.H., Alex","albumName":"Walk The Edge","duration":545.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I am standing on the mountain so high\nWatching birds flying by\nAnd my heart is full of desire\n\nThis will all I have in the sight\nOnly now I ask myself why\nThis word is so cruel, sometimes","syncedLyrics":"[03:47.99] I am standing on the mountain so high\n[04:01.01] Watching birds flying by\n[04:08.57] And my heart is full of desire\n[04:20.40] This will all I have in the sight\n[04:33.25] Only now I ask myself why\n[04:43.84] This word is so cruel, sometimes\n[09:03.36] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)\n  artist: M.O.R.P.H., Alex\n  album: Walk The Edge\n  duration_ms: 545000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I am standing on the mountain so high\n  start_ms: 227990\n  end_ms: 241010\n- text: Watching birds flying by\n  start_ms: 241010\n  end_ms: 248570\n- text: And my heart is full of desire\n  start_ms: 248570\n  end_ms: 260400\n- text: This will all I have in the sight\n  start_ms: 260400\n  end_ms: 273250\n- text: Only now I ask myself why\n  start_ms: 273250\n  end_ms: 283840\n- text: This word is so cruel, sometimes\n  start_ms: 283840\n  end_ms: 543360\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 543360\nplain: |-\n  I am standing on the mountain so high\n  Watching birds flying by\n  And my heart is full of desire\n\n  This will all I have in the sight\n  Only now I ask myself why\n  This word is so cruel, sometimes\n"},{"id":11119127,"name":"Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)","trackName":"Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)","artistName":"Alex M.O.R.P.H.","albumName":"Walk The Edge","duration":545.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I am standing on the mountain so high\nWatching birds flying by\nAnd my heart is full of desire\n\nThis will all I have in the sight\nOnly now I ask myself why\nThis word is so cruel, sometimes","syncedLyrics":"[03:47.99] I am standing on the mountain so high\n[04:01.01] Watching birds flying by\n[04:08.57] And my heart is full of desire\n[04:20.40] This will all I have in the sight\n[04:33.25] Only now I ask myself why\n[04:43.84] This word is so cruel, sometimes\n[09:03.36] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Walk The Edge (Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix)\n  artist: Alex M.O.R.P.H.\n  album: Walk The Edge\n  duration_ms: 545000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I am standing on the mountain so high\n  start_ms: 227990\n  end_ms: 241010\n- text: Watching birds flying by\n  start_ms: 241010\n  end_ms: 248570\n- text: And my heart is full of desire\n  start_ms: 248570\n  end_ms: 260400\n- text: This will all I have in the sight\n  start_ms: 260400\n  end_ms: 273250\n- text: Only now I ask myself why\n  start_ms: 273250\n  end_ms: 283840\n- text: This word is so cruel, sometimes\n  start_ms: 283840\n  end_ms: 543360\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 543360\nplain: |-\n  I am standing on the mountain so high\n  Watching birds flying by\n  And my heart is full of desire\n\n  This will all I have in the sight\n  Only now I ask myself why\n  This word is so cruel, sometimes\n"},{"id":12717854,"name":"Walk The Edge - Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix","trackName":"Walk The Edge - Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix","artistName":"Alex M.O.R.P.H.","albumName":"Singles","duration":545.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I am standing on the mountain so high\nWatching birds flying by\nAnd my heart is full of desire\n\nThis will all I have in the sight\nOnly now I ask myself why\nThis word is so cruel, sometimes","syncedLyrics":"[03:47.99] I am standing on the mountain so high\n[04:01.01] Watching birds flying by\n[04:08.57] And my heart is full of desire\n[04:20.40] This will all I have in the sight\n[04:33.25] Only now I ask myself why\n[04:43.84] This word is so cruel, sometimes\n[09:03.36] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Walk The Edge - Alex M.O.R.P.H. B2B Woody van Eyden Intro Vocal Mix\n  artist: Alex M.O.R.P.H.\n  album: Singles\n  duration_ms: 545000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I am standing on the mountain so high\n  start_ms: 227990\n  end_ms: 241010\n- text: Watching birds flying by\n  start_ms: 241010\n  end_ms: 248570\n- text: And my heart is full of desire\n  start_ms: 248570\n  end_ms: 260400\n- text: This will all I have in the sight\n  start_ms: 260400\n  end_ms: 273250\n- text: Only now I ask myself why\n  start_ms: 273250\n  end_ms: 283840\n- text: This word is so cruel, sometimes\n  start_ms: 283840\n  end_ms: 543360\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 543360\nplain: |-\n  I am standing on the mountain so high\n  Watching birds flying by\n  And my heart is full of desire\n\n  This will all I have in the sight\n  Only now I ask myself why\n  This word is so cruel, sometimes\n"},{"id":14156376,"name":"Intro (feat. Max B)","trackName":"Intro (feat. Max B)","artistName":"Jim Jones featuring Max B","albumName":"Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product of My Environment)","duration":323.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on, come on\nCome on give me that double give me that double, Give it to me\nYou never knew what it took to get here\nThey say life dont stop for no one\nSo I'm going back in my people\nThis what ya'll wanted right? You said you wanted the truth\nSo I solemnly swear, that the truth be told I'm thuggin to the day I die\nIt's Dipset, it's more than just music now\nIt's a way of life, it's more than the 200 hundred years of blood sweat and tears\nHo stand me? For all my ballers, my day crawlers... It's bigger than Nino Brown\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nIt must of been a obsession, Had to make it large (Dreams)\nStarted my progression, I'd stay stayed with the huds (Down South)\nNow it's private jets, smokin' haze what the stars (G4)\nQuarter mill write the check is how we for the car (What's The Price?)\nSwitchin' lanes up 7th, Are we racin' the cars (Harlem)\nBut the boys still stressin', I'm facin' the charge (Yay-Ya Be Trippin')\nStill prayin' to God, Cause lifes not promised, not even manana (Fuck tomorrow)\nRemember movin' bricks, paranoid bout ehanas\nOr even at the club, an them boys and then behind us\nI'm chasin' death, gettin' closer to 30 (Gettin Older)\nSunny outside, but the work is dirty\nDays out, Harlem nights, over in Jersey\nIn my rare view goin' home cause the vultures is thirsty (I See Em)\nPull that doubt you won't catch me in traffic\nDark tints on the V, when I lack it's the ratchet, bastidd\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nNow I'm the leader of the pack, Can't help to think back\nHow I was eager to sell crack, I thought it was the shit (Damn)\nWhen they talk about my influence, I thought of uncle Ricky (Uncle Ricky Wha's Good)\nHe used to call up on his flip, he start snortin' on his shit\nThe same life had me gas'd, when I bought my first vic\nI was heavy on the gas, when I bought my first whip\nI thought I was the shit, you couldn't tell me nothing\nI was 16, I told the teacha \"You can feel me fuck em\" (Feel Me Nigga)\nJust any suits, pullin' up to club in Beamer coups\nGettin' cash (Gettin' Cash)\nWe livin' fast (Fast)\nDifferent women every night, couple of bitches clashed (Fuck You Bitches)\nI just laughed (Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Now Listen)\n\nI almost got wiped out on the wave, Thought 11 was tsunami\nFor the prices of the yay (Fuck The City Up)\nThe hustlas, they know the saga of the story (I Know The Story)\nWe live sucka free and show problems to authority\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nOne... Two, Feds comin' for you\nThree... Four, Betta' watch the law\nFive... Six, If you start pumpin' bricks\nSeven... Eight, hope it ain't heavy weight\n\nFerrari dreams, feds spooked me in my nightmare\nI tried to scream like Freddy Kruegers' in my nightmare (Livin' For The Fame)\nSo a nigga scared to go to sleep\nUntil the day break, I'm tearin' up the street\nPorsche'n with the clutch, ballin' like the play off's\nTop goin' 40 on the floor, with the safe off\n12 car convoyed a road full of race cars\nTill' the pilot give me 5 minutes before he take off (Roll Up)\n\n[Chorus]\nTake a walk, lets slide\nTake a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\nYou dont even need a seat belt homie\nCause where I'm bout to take you\nYou dont need nothin' homie\nAnd I don't need nothin' on me\nBut a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\nI just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\nThat's my conclusion... See it's the fast life we livin'...\nSo I'm ah tell you, if you in the left lane\nkeep going cause they right on your heels nigga (Squalieee)\nAnd if they catch you, that's your ass...\nAnd if you blink nigga, your life could be over (We Got No Time For Sleep)\nI keep sayin' the rap game is like the crack game\nCause we could all end up dead or in jail\nThey got us under surveillance...\nAnd to all my niggas behind the g-wall (My Soldiers)\nInhale, exhale... Shake your nuts if you have to (East Side)\nAnd all the political soldiers that ain't never comin' home (RIP Too)\nTo all my homies, East Side...\nWhile you in your cell, raise hell to this (Roll Call)\nI do this for ya'll (Dipset)... I feel ya' pain (I'm On The Same Route)\nI know what it's like hittin' the streets at ah early age to deal cocaine (It's Ah Cold World)\nSurvival, It's all about the struggle (We Gotta' Eat)...\nSo I dedicate this to you (My Soldiers)\nKeep your head up and your eyes open...\nStay focused, It's us against them\nI'd never let them take me alive, take me alive.\n\nTake a journey wit ya' boy, let's ride.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Intro (feat. Max B)\n  artist: Jim Jones featuring Max B\n  album: Hustler's P.O.M.E. (Product of My Environment)\n  duration_ms: 323000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Come on, come on\n  Come on give me that double give me that double, Give it to me\n  You never knew what it took to get here\n  They say life dont stop for no one\n  So I'm going back in my people\n  This what ya'll wanted right? You said you wanted the truth\n  So I solemnly swear, that the truth be told I'm thuggin to the day I die\n  It's Dipset, it's more than just music now\n  It's a way of life, it's more than the 200 hundred years of blood sweat and tears\n  Ho stand me? For all my ballers, my day crawlers... It's bigger than Nino Brown\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  It must of been a obsession, Had to make it large (Dreams)\n  Started my progression, I'd stay stayed with the huds (Down South)\n  Now it's private jets, smokin' haze what the stars (G4)\n  Quarter mill write the check is how we for the car (What's The Price?)\n  Switchin' lanes up 7th, Are we racin' the cars (Harlem)\n  But the boys still stressin', I'm facin' the charge (Yay-Ya Be Trippin')\n  Still prayin' to God, Cause lifes not promised, not even manana (Fuck tomorrow)\n  Remember movin' bricks, paranoid bout ehanas\n  Or even at the club, an them boys and then behind us\n  I'm chasin' death, gettin' closer to 30 (Gettin Older)\n  Sunny outside, but the work is dirty\n  Days out, Harlem nights, over in Jersey\n  In my rare view goin' home cause the vultures is thirsty (I See Em)\n  Pull that doubt you won't catch me in traffic\n  Dark tints on the V, when I lack it's the ratchet, bastidd\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  Now I'm the leader of the pack, Can't help to think back\n  How I was eager to sell crack, I thought it was the shit (Damn)\n  When they talk about my influence, I thought of uncle Ricky (Uncle Ricky Wha's Good)\n  He used to call up on his flip, he start snortin' on his shit\n  The same life had me gas'd, when I bought my first vic\n  I was heavy on the gas, when I bought my first whip\n  I thought I was the shit, you couldn't tell me nothing\n  I was 16, I told the teacha \"You can feel me fuck em\" (Feel Me Nigga)\n  Just any suits, pullin' up to club in Beamer coups\n  Gettin' cash (Gettin' Cash)\n  We livin' fast (Fast)\n  Different women every night, couple of bitches clashed (Fuck You Bitches)\n  I just laughed (Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Now Listen)\n\n  I almost got wiped out on the wave, Thought 11 was tsunami\n  For the prices of the yay (Fuck The City Up)\n  The hustlas, they know the saga of the story (I Know The Story)\n  We live sucka free and show problems to authority\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  One... Two, Feds comin' for you\n  Three... Four, Betta' watch the law\n  Five... Six, If you start pumpin' bricks\n  Seven... Eight, hope it ain't heavy weight\n\n  Ferrari dreams, feds spooked me in my nightmare\n  I tried to scream like Freddy Kruegers' in my nightmare (Livin' For The Fame)\n  So a nigga scared to go to sleep\n  Until the day break, I'm tearin' up the street\n  Porsche'n with the clutch, ballin' like the play off's\n  Top goin' 40 on the floor, with the safe off\n  12 car convoyed a road full of race cars\n  Till' the pilot give me 5 minutes before he take off (Roll Up)\n\n  [Chorus]\n  Take a walk, lets slide\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy and lets ride\n  You dont even need a seat belt homie\n  Cause where I'm bout to take you\n  You dont need nothin' homie\n  And I don't need nothin' on me\n  But a bottle purple juice and my weed smoke homie\n  I just need you in the zone, take ya' oastar off and make yaself at home\n\n  That's my conclusion... See it's the fast life we livin'...\n  So I'm ah tell you, if you in the left lane\n  keep going cause they right on your heels nigga (Squalieee)\n  And if they catch you, that's your ass...\n  And if you blink nigga, your life could be over (We Got No Time For Sleep)\n  I keep sayin' the rap game is like the crack game\n  Cause we could all end up dead or in jail\n  They got us under surveillance...\n  And to all my niggas behind the g-wall (My Soldiers)\n  Inhale, exhale... Shake your nuts if you have to (East Side)\n  And all the political soldiers that ain't never comin' home (RIP Too)\n  To all my homies, East Side...\n  While you in your cell, raise hell to this (Roll Call)\n  I do this for ya'll (Dipset)... I feel ya' pain (I'm On The Same Route)\n  I know what it's like hittin' the streets at ah early age to deal cocaine (It's Ah Cold World)\n  Survival, It's all about the struggle (We Gotta' Eat)...\n  So I dedicate this to you (My Soldiers)\n  Keep your head up and your eyes open...\n  Stay focused, It's us against them\n  I'd never let them take me alive, take me alive.\n\n  Take a journey wit ya' boy, let's ride.\n"},{"id":10891396,"name":"Love Shines Through (Alex M.O.R.P.H. remix intro mix)","trackName":"Love Shines Through (Alex M.O.R.P.H. remix intro mix)","artistName":"Chakra","albumName":"Hands on Armada – Full Versions E.P. 2","duration":495.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":true,"plainLyrics":"You are beautiful within,\nyou are beautiful without,\nthere's no reason for your mind\nto be consumed with senseless doubt\nThere are times we will remember,\nthere are nights we won't forget.\nIf we'll value every moment,\nwe will never feel regret.\n\nIn everything you do,\nYour love shines through.\nIn everything you do,\nYour love shines through.\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.\n\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.\n\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.\n\nyou have wisdom of exception\nYou are gentle like a child.\nYou will always be protected.\nYou will never lose your smile.\nThere are friends who will remain,\nwithin out thoughts throughout our lives\nThere are ties that can't be broken,\nthere are songs that cannot die.\n\nIn everything you do,\nYour love shines through.\nIn everything you do,\nYour love shines through.\n\nIn everything you do,\nYour love shines through.\nIn everything you do,\nYour love shines through.\n\nLove...\n\nShines through.\n\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.\n\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.\n\nLove...\nLove...\nLove...\nShines through.","syncedLyrics":"[00:56.68]You are beautiful within\n[02:37.05]You are beautiful without\n[02:40.59]There's no reason for your mind\n[02:43.44]To be consumed with senseless doubt\n[02:47.59]There are times we will remember\n[02:51.07]There are nights we won't forget\n[02:54.48]If we value every moment\n[02:57.98]We will never feel regret\n[03:03.60]In everything you do\n[03:08.73]Your love shines through\n[03:17.57]In everything you do\n[03:22.66]Your love shines through\n[03:30.06]Love, love, love\n[03:39.71]Shines through\n[03:43.94]Love, love, love\n[03:53.62]Shines through\n[04:13.27]In everything you do\n[04:19.21]Your love shines through\n[04:27.15]In everything you do\n[04:32.28]Your love shines through\n[05:24.63]Love, love, love\n[05:31.09]Shines through\n[05:35.25]Love, love, love\n[05:44.96]Shines through\n[06:04.51]In everything you do\n[06:09.68]Your love shines through\n[06:17.07]Love, your love\n[06:20.89]Shines through\n[06:21.01]Love, love\n[06:24.50]Love\n[06:26.72]Shines through\n[06:30.99]Love, love\n[06:37.76]Love\n[06:40.62]Shines through","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Love Shines Through (Alex M.O.R.P.H. remix intro mix)\n  artist: Chakra\n  album: Hands on Armada – Full Versions E.P. 2\n  duration_ms: 495000\n  instrumental: false\n  language: en\nlines:\n- text: You are beautiful within\n  start_ms: 56680\n  end_ms: 157050\n  words:\n  - 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