[{"id":1069851,"name":"Shoot to Kill (Glock Mix)","trackName":"Shoot to Kill (Glock Mix)","artistName":"Mad Lion","albumName":"Girlzz / Shoot to Kill","duration":230.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\nAin't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\nAnd what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\nPermanently, you just being hurt\nThis ain't gonna work for me\nIt just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\nCause we, are just gonna be, enemies\nAs long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\nComing to terms, where we can agree\nThere ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\nYou speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\nSo we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\nYou're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\nAnd settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\nA demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\nAnd you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\nI see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\nMe do this one all by my lonely\nI don't need fifteen of my homies\nWhen I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\nWe never met, but best believe you gon' know me\nWhen I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\nCome on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\nLift me up, hold me, just like you told me\nYou was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\nI'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\nNow go to sleep bitch\nDie, motherfucker, die\nUgh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\nGo to sleep, bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nHow many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\nAnd go to sleep bitch (what)\nDie motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\nGo to sleep bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nWhy, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\nGo to sleep bitch\n\nWe got you niggas nervous\nOn purpose, to hurt your focus\nYou's not MC's, you's worthless\nYou's not them G's, you's a circus\nYou's no appeal, please\nYou's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\nYou's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\nWhen lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\nYou fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\nShady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\nAnd as I mold, I become a curse\nSo we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\nCock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\nDepicts fiction in his verse\nAnd as I breathe, and you be deceased\nThe world believe you deceived just to speak\nYou's not the streets, you's the desk\nUse not your chest nigga, use a vest\nBefore two's choose ya rest, you chose death\nSix feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\nHey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\nI'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\nStalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\nUnderstand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\nPeep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\nShit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\nBut I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\nEasy going with the same one that started the fight\nHe be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\nTried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\nGrand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\nCuz it's all good, it's all right\nNiggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\nNow they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\nBlood Line, and, we can go track for track\nDamn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\nAll you motherfuckers, take that\nHere, take this too, bitch\nUh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\nWe're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\nFake ass gangsters\nNo more press\nNo more press\nRot, motherfuckers, rot\nDecay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\nDie nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\nAhh, hahahaha\nYo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Shoot to Kill (Glock Mix)\n  artist: Mad Lion\n  album: Girlzz / Shoot to Kill\n  duration_ms: 230000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\n  Ain't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\n  And what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\n  Permanently, you just being hurt\n  This ain't gonna work for me\n  It just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\n  Cause we, are just gonna be, enemies\n  As long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\n  Coming to terms, where we can agree\n  There ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\n  You speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\n  So we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\n  You're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\n  And settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\n  A demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\n  And you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\n  I see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\n  Me do this one all by my lonely\n  I don't need fifteen of my homies\n  When I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\n  We never met, but best believe you gon' know me\n  When I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\n  Come on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\n  Lift me up, hold me, just like you told me\n  You was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\n  I'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\n  Now go to sleep bitch\n  Die, motherfucker, die\n  Ugh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\n  Go to sleep, bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  How many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\n  And go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Die motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\n  Go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  Why, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\n  Go to sleep bitch\n\n  We got you niggas nervous\n  On purpose, to hurt your focus\n  You's not MC's, you's worthless\n  You's not them G's, you's a circus\n  You's no appeal, please\n  You's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\n  You's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\n  When lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\n  You fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\n  Shady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\n  And as I mold, I become a curse\n  So we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\n  Cock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\n  Depicts fiction in his verse\n  And as I breathe, and you be deceased\n  The world believe you deceived just to speak\n  You's not the streets, you's the desk\n  Use not your chest nigga, use a vest\n  Before two's choose ya rest, you chose death\n  Six feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\n  Hey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\n  I'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\n  Stalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\n  Understand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\n  Peep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\n  Shit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\n  But I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\n  Easy going with the same one that started the fight\n  He be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\n  Tried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\n  Grand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\n  Cuz it's all good, it's all right\n  Niggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\n  Now they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\n  Blood Line, and, we can go track for track\n  Damn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\n  All you motherfuckers, take that\n  Here, take this too, bitch\n  Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\n  We're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\n  Fake ass gangsters\n  No more press\n  No more press\n  Rot, motherfuckers, rot\n  Decay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\n  Die nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\n  Ahh, hahahaha\n  Yo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha\n"},{"id":27442964,"name":"Shoot To Kill (Glock Mix)","trackName":"Shoot To Kill (Glock Mix)","artistName":"Mad Lion","albumName":"GIRLZZ b/w SHOOT TO KILL","duration":229.590204,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\nAin't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\nAnd what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\nPermanently, you just being hurt\nThis ain't gonna work for me\nIt just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\nCause we, are just gonna be, enemies\nAs long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\nComing to terms, where we can agree\nThere ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\nYou speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\nSo we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\nYou're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\nAnd settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\nA demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\nAnd you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\nI see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\nMe do this one all by my lonely\nI don't need fifteen of my homies\nWhen I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\nWe never met, but best believe you gon' know me\nWhen I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\nCome on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\nLift me up, hold me, just like you told me\nYou was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\nI'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\nNow go to sleep bitch\nDie, motherfucker, die\nUgh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\nGo to sleep, bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nHow many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\nAnd go to sleep bitch (what)\nDie motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\nGo to sleep bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nWhy, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\nGo to sleep bitch\n\nWe got you niggas nervous\nOn purpose, to hurt your focus\nYou's not MC's, you's worthless\nYou's not them G's, you's a circus\nYou's no appeal, please\nYou's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\nYou's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\nWhen lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\nYou fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\nShady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\nAnd as I mold, I become a curse\nSo we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\nCock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\nDepicts fiction in his verse\nAnd as I breathe, and you be deceased\nThe world believe you deceived just to speak\nYou's not the streets, you's the desk\nUse not your chest nigga, use a vest\nBefore two's choose ya rest, you chose death\nSix feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\nHey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\nI'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\nStalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\nUnderstand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\nPeep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\nShit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\nBut I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\nEasy going with the same one that started the fight\nHe be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\nTried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\nGrand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\nCuz it's all good, it's all right\nNiggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\nNow they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\nBlood Line, and, we can go track for track\nDamn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\nAll you motherfuckers, take that\nHere, take this too, bitch\nUh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\nWe're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\nFake ass gangsters\nNo more press\nNo more press\nRot, motherfuckers, rot\nDecay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\nDie nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\nAhh, hahahaha\nYo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Shoot To Kill (Glock Mix)\n  artist: Mad Lion\n  album: GIRLZZ b/w SHOOT TO KILL\n  duration_ms: 229590\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\n  Ain't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\n  And what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\n  Permanently, you just being hurt\n  This ain't gonna work for me\n  It just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\n  Cause we, are just gonna be, enemies\n  As long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\n  Coming to terms, where we can agree\n  There ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\n  You speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\n  So we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\n  You're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\n  And settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\n  A demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\n  And you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\n  I see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\n  Me do this one all by my lonely\n  I don't need fifteen of my homies\n  When I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\n  We never met, but best believe you gon' know me\n  When I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\n  Come on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\n  Lift me up, hold me, just like you told me\n  You was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\n  I'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\n  Now go to sleep bitch\n  Die, motherfucker, die\n  Ugh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\n  Go to sleep, bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  How many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\n  And go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Die motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\n  Go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  Why, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\n  Go to sleep bitch\n\n  We got you niggas nervous\n  On purpose, to hurt your focus\n  You's not MC's, you's worthless\n  You's not them G's, you's a circus\n  You's no appeal, please\n  You's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\n  You's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\n  When lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\n  You fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\n  Shady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\n  And as I mold, I become a curse\n  So we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\n  Cock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\n  Depicts fiction in his verse\n  And as I breathe, and you be deceased\n  The world believe you deceived just to speak\n  You's not the streets, you's the desk\n  Use not your chest nigga, use a vest\n  Before two's choose ya rest, you chose death\n  Six feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\n  Hey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\n  I'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\n  Stalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\n  Understand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\n  Peep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\n  Shit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\n  But I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\n  Easy going with the same one that started the fight\n  He be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\n  Tried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\n  Grand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\n  Cuz it's all good, it's all right\n  Niggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\n  Now they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\n  Blood Line, and, we can go track for track\n  Damn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\n  All you motherfuckers, take that\n  Here, take this too, bitch\n  Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\n  We're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\n  Fake ass gangsters\n  No more press\n  No more press\n  Rot, motherfuckers, rot\n  Decay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\n  Die nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\n  Ahh, hahahaha\n  Yo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha\n"},{"id":13811339,"name":"Shoot to Kill","trackName":"Shoot to Kill","artistName":"Mad Lion","albumName":"Real Ting","duration":218.706667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I say!\nSoundboy, there's no need to worry\nAs long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\nSo you don't have to worry at all\nI shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\nAnd there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\nI wanna full you up with lead\n\nShoot to kill, every day\nShoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\nShoot to kill, every day\nShoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n\nMi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\nNah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\nAim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\nMake them know bad bwoy don't take chat\nWe just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\nNah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\nBDP and Mad Lion combine\nMake them know we just shot out a guy's spine\nWicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n\nCau' we gun don't join church\nNah go a Sunday School\nWaan diss the program bwoy?\nYou lie down in a blood pool!\n\nTest, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\nTest, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\nFunkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\nAwesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n\nWho's been listening to BDP\nFrom 1986 to 1993?\nHands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\nLick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n\nCause soundboy, there's no need to worry\nAs long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n\nI take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\nDon't haffi worry KRS him have my back\nHe have the gun with the red light pon top\nWillie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\nDiss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\nOne, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n\nThat's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\nAs long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\nSo you don't have to worry at all\nI shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\nAnd there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\nI wanna full you up with shots\n\nShots without a limit\nShoot to kill\nShot the bwoy\nWrite him will\nSix feet under\nCan't come back\nDead man dem\nCannot chat\n\nI just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\nNah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\nAim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\nMake them know BDP don't take chat\nSee the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\nMake them know BDP take the trophy home\nWicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\nListen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\nThat's why\nAll the people jump and kick up\nKnow BDP say them sweet like syrup\nHands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.27] I say!\n[00:02.73] Soundboy, there's no need to worry\n[00:07.00] As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n[00:10.57] So you don't have to worry at all\n[00:13.55] I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\n[00:17.42] And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n[00:20.31] I wanna full you up with lead\n[00:22.25] Shoot to kill, every day\n[00:27.41] Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n[00:31.97] Shoot to kill, every day\n[00:36.91] Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n[00:41.66] Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n[00:44.28] Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n[00:46.69] Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n[00:49.27] Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat\n[00:51.20] We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\n[00:53.83] Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\n[00:56.11] BDP and Mad Lion combine\n[00:58.51] Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine\n[01:00.98] Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n[01:03.30] Cau' we gun don't join church\n[01:05.95] Nah go a Sunday School\n[01:08.65] Waan diss the program bwoy?\n[01:10.85] You lie down in a blood pool!\n[01:13.35] Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\n[01:15.58] Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\n[01:17.52] Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\n[01:20.12] Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n[01:22.43] Who's been listening to BDP\n[01:24.88] From 1986 to 1993?\n[01:27.13] Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\n[01:29.60] Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n[01:33.62] Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry\n[01:37.83] As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n[01:41.48] I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\n[01:43.97] Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back\n[01:46.15] He have the gun with the red light pon top\n[01:48.59] Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\n[01:50.73] Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\n[01:53.17] One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n[01:55.66] That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\n[01:59.55] As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n[02:03.33] So you don't have to worry at all\n[02:06.35] I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\n[02:10.44] And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n[02:12.90] I wanna full you up with shots\n[02:15.16] Shots without a limit\n[02:17.07] Shoot to kill\n[02:19.51] Shot the bwoy\n[02:21.78] Write him will\n[02:24.55] Six feet under\n[02:26.81] Can't come back\n[02:28.23] Dead man dem\n[02:31.51] Cannot chat\n[02:33.98] I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n[02:37.09] Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n[02:39.39] Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n[02:41.89] Make them know BDP don't take chat\n[02:44.22] See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\n[02:46.43] Make them know BDP take the trophy home\n[02:48.88] Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\n[02:51.25] Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\n[02:53.64] That's why\n[02:54.70] All the people jump and kick up\n[02:56.09] Know BDP say them sweet like syrup\n[02:58.32] Hands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!\n[03:08.38] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Shoot to Kill\n  artist: Mad Lion\n  album: Real Ting\n  duration_ms: 218707\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I say!\n  start_ms: 1270\n  end_ms: 2730\n- text: Soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  start_ms: 2730\n  end_ms: 7000\n- text: As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  start_ms: 7000\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: So you don't have to worry at all\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 17420\n- text: And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  start_ms: 17420\n  end_ms: 20310\n- text: I wanna full you up with lead\n  start_ms: 20310\n  end_ms: 22250\n- text: Shoot to kill, every day\n  start_ms: 22250\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 31970\n- text: Shoot to kill, every day\n  start_ms: 31970\n  end_ms: 36910\n- text: Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n  start_ms: 36910\n  end_ms: 41660\n- text: Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  start_ms: 41660\n  end_ms: 44280\n- text: Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  start_ms: 44280\n  end_ms: 46690\n- text: Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  start_ms: 46690\n  end_ms: 49270\n- text: Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat\n  start_ms: 49270\n  end_ms: 51200\n- text: We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\n  start_ms: 51200\n  end_ms: 53830\n- text: Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\n  start_ms: 53830\n  end_ms: 56110\n- text: BDP and Mad Lion combine\n  start_ms: 56110\n  end_ms: 58510\n- text: Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine\n  start_ms: 58510\n  end_ms: 60980\n- text: Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n  start_ms: 60980\n  end_ms: 63300\n- text: Cau' we gun don't join church\n  start_ms: 63300\n  end_ms: 65950\n- text: Nah go a Sunday School\n  start_ms: 65950\n  end_ms: 68650\n- text: Waan diss the program bwoy?\n  start_ms: 68650\n  end_ms: 70850\n- text: You lie down in a blood pool!\n  start_ms: 70850\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75580\n- text: Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\n  start_ms: 75580\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 80120\n- text: Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n  start_ms: 80120\n  end_ms: 82430\n- text: Who's been listening to BDP\n  start_ms: 82430\n  end_ms: 84880\n- text: From 1986 to 1993?\n  start_ms: 84880\n  end_ms: 87130\n- text: Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\n  start_ms: 87130\n  end_ms: 89600\n- text: Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n  start_ms: 89600\n  end_ms: 93620\n- text: Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  start_ms: 93620\n  end_ms: 97830\n- text: As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  start_ms: 97830\n  end_ms: 101480\n- text: I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\n  start_ms: 101480\n  end_ms: 103970\n- text: Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back\n  start_ms: 103970\n  end_ms: 106150\n- text: He have the gun with the red light pon top\n  start_ms: 106150\n  end_ms: 108590\n- text: Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\n  start_ms: 108590\n  end_ms: 110730\n- text: Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\n  start_ms: 110730\n  end_ms: 113170\n- text: One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n  start_ms: 113170\n  end_ms: 115660\n- text: That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  start_ms: 115660\n  end_ms: 119550\n- text: As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  start_ms: 119550\n  end_ms: 123330\n- text: So you don't have to worry at all\n  start_ms: 123330\n  end_ms: 126350\n- text: I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\n  start_ms: 126350\n  end_ms: 130440\n- text: And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  start_ms: 130440\n  end_ms: 132900\n- text: I wanna full you up with shots\n  start_ms: 132900\n  end_ms: 135160\n- text: Shots without a limit\n  start_ms: 135160\n  end_ms: 137070\n- text: Shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 137070\n  end_ms: 139510\n- text: Shot the bwoy\n  start_ms: 139510\n  end_ms: 141780\n- text: Write him will\n  start_ms: 141780\n  end_ms: 144550\n- text: Six feet under\n  start_ms: 144550\n  end_ms: 146810\n- text: Can't come back\n  start_ms: 146810\n  end_ms: 148230\n- text: Dead man dem\n  start_ms: 148230\n  end_ms: 151510\n- text: Cannot chat\n  start_ms: 151510\n  end_ms: 153980\n- text: I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  start_ms: 153980\n  end_ms: 157090\n- text: Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  start_ms: 157090\n  end_ms: 159390\n- text: Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  start_ms: 159390\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Make them know BDP don't take chat\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164220\n- text: See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\n  start_ms: 164220\n  end_ms: 166430\n- text: Make them know BDP take the trophy home\n  start_ms: 166430\n  end_ms: 168880\n- text: Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\n  start_ms: 168880\n  end_ms: 171250\n- text: Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\n  start_ms: 171250\n  end_ms: 173640\n- text: That's why\n  start_ms: 173640\n  end_ms: 174700\n- text: All the people jump and kick up\n  start_ms: 174700\n  end_ms: 176090\n- text: Know BDP say them sweet like syrup\n  start_ms: 176090\n  end_ms: 178320\n- text: Hands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!\n  start_ms: 178320\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 188380\nplain: |-\n  I say!\n  Soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  So you don't have to worry at all\n  I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\n  And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  I wanna full you up with lead\n\n  Shoot to kill, every day\n  Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n  Shoot to kill, every day\n  Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n\n  Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat\n  We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\n  Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\n  BDP and Mad Lion combine\n  Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine\n  Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n\n  Cau' we gun don't join church\n  Nah go a Sunday School\n  Waan diss the program bwoy?\n  You lie down in a blood pool!\n\n  Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\n  Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\n  Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\n  Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n\n  Who's been listening to BDP\n  From 1986 to 1993?\n  Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\n  Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n\n  Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n\n  I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\n  Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back\n  He have the gun with the red light pon top\n  Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\n  Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\n  One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n\n  That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  So you don't have to worry at all\n  I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\n  And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  I wanna full you up with shots\n\n  Shots without a limit\n  Shoot to kill\n  Shot the bwoy\n  Write him will\n  Six feet under\n  Can't come back\n  Dead man dem\n  Cannot chat\n\n  I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  Make them know BDP don't take chat\n  See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\n  Make them know BDP take the trophy home\n  Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\n  Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\n  That's why\n  All the people jump and kick up\n  Know BDP say them sweet like syrup\n  Hands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!\n"},{"id":26156606,"name":"Shoot To Kill","trackName":"Shoot To Kill","artistName":"Mad Lion","albumName":"Lossless 1990s Singles","duration":218.706667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I say!\nSoundboy, there's no need to worry\nAs long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\nSo you don't have to worry at all\nI shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\nAnd there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\nI wanna full you up with lead\n\nShoot to kill, every day\nShoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\nShoot to kill, every day\nShoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n\nMi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\nNah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\nAim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\nMake them know bad bwoy don't take chat\nWe just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\nNah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\nBDP and Mad Lion combine\nMake them know we just shot out a guy's spine\nWicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n\nCau' we gun don't join church\nNah go a Sunday School\nWaan diss the program bwoy?\nYou lie down in a blood pool!\n\nTest, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\nTest, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\nFunkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\nAwesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n\nWho's been listening to BDP\nFrom 1986 to 1993?\nHands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\nLick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n\nCause soundboy, there's no need to worry\nAs long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n\nI take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\nDon't haffi worry KRS him have my back\nHe have the gun with the red light pon top\nWillie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\nDiss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\nOne, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n\nThat's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\nAs long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\nSo you don't have to worry at all\nI shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\nAnd there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\nI wanna full you up with shots\n\nShots without a limit\nShoot to kill\nShot the bwoy\nWrite him will\nSix feet under\nCan't come back\nDead man dem\nCannot chat\n\nI just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\nNah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\nAim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\nMake them know BDP don't take chat\nSee the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\nMake them know BDP take the trophy home\nWicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\nListen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\nThat's why\nAll the people jump and kick up\nKnow BDP say them sweet like syrup\nHands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.27] I say!\n[00:02.73] Soundboy, there's no need to worry\n[00:07.00] As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n[00:10.57] So you don't have to worry at all\n[00:13.55] I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\n[00:17.42] And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n[00:20.31] I wanna full you up with lead\n[00:22.25] Shoot to kill, every day\n[00:27.41] Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n[00:31.97] Shoot to kill, every day\n[00:36.91] Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n[00:41.66] Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n[00:44.28] Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n[00:46.69] Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n[00:49.27] Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat\n[00:51.20] We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\n[00:53.83] Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\n[00:56.11] BDP and Mad Lion combine\n[00:58.51] Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine\n[01:00.98] Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n[01:03.30] Cau' we gun don't join church\n[01:05.95] Nah go a Sunday School\n[01:08.65] Waan diss the program bwoy?\n[01:10.85] You lie down in a blood pool!\n[01:13.35] Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\n[01:15.58] Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\n[01:17.52] Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\n[01:20.12] Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n[01:22.43] Who's been listening to BDP\n[01:24.88] From 1986 to 1993?\n[01:27.13] Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\n[01:29.60] Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n[01:33.62] Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry\n[01:37.83] As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n[01:41.48] I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\n[01:43.97] Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back\n[01:46.15] He have the gun with the red light pon top\n[01:48.59] Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\n[01:50.73] Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\n[01:53.17] One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n[01:55.66] That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\n[01:59.55] As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n[02:03.33] So you don't have to worry at all\n[02:06.35] I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\n[02:10.44] And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n[02:12.90] I wanna full you up with shots\n[02:15.16] Shots without a limit\n[02:17.07] Shoot to kill\n[02:19.51] Shot the bwoy\n[02:21.78] Write him will\n[02:24.55] Six feet under\n[02:26.81] Can't come back\n[02:28.23] Dead man dem\n[02:31.51] Cannot chat\n[02:33.98] I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n[02:37.09] Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n[02:39.39] Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n[02:41.89] Make them know BDP don't take chat\n[02:44.22] See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\n[02:46.43] Make them know BDP take the trophy home\n[02:48.88] Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\n[02:51.25] Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\n[02:53.64] That's why\n[02:54.70] All the people jump and kick up\n[02:56.09] Know BDP say them sweet like syrup\n[02:58.32] Hands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!\n[03:08.38] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Shoot To Kill\n  artist: Mad Lion\n  album: Lossless 1990s Singles\n  duration_ms: 218707\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I say!\n  start_ms: 1270\n  end_ms: 2730\n- text: Soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  start_ms: 2730\n  end_ms: 7000\n- text: As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  start_ms: 7000\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: So you don't have to worry at all\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 17420\n- text: And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  start_ms: 17420\n  end_ms: 20310\n- text: I wanna full you up with lead\n  start_ms: 20310\n  end_ms: 22250\n- text: Shoot to kill, every day\n  start_ms: 22250\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 31970\n- text: Shoot to kill, every day\n  start_ms: 31970\n  end_ms: 36910\n- text: Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n  start_ms: 36910\n  end_ms: 41660\n- text: Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  start_ms: 41660\n  end_ms: 44280\n- text: Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  start_ms: 44280\n  end_ms: 46690\n- text: Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  start_ms: 46690\n  end_ms: 49270\n- text: Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat\n  start_ms: 49270\n  end_ms: 51200\n- text: We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\n  start_ms: 51200\n  end_ms: 53830\n- text: Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\n  start_ms: 53830\n  end_ms: 56110\n- text: BDP and Mad Lion combine\n  start_ms: 56110\n  end_ms: 58510\n- text: Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine\n  start_ms: 58510\n  end_ms: 60980\n- text: Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n  start_ms: 60980\n  end_ms: 63300\n- text: Cau' we gun don't join church\n  start_ms: 63300\n  end_ms: 65950\n- text: Nah go a Sunday School\n  start_ms: 65950\n  end_ms: 68650\n- text: Waan diss the program bwoy?\n  start_ms: 68650\n  end_ms: 70850\n- text: You lie down in a blood pool!\n  start_ms: 70850\n  end_ms: 73350\n- text: Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\n  start_ms: 73350\n  end_ms: 75580\n- text: Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\n  start_ms: 75580\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 80120\n- text: Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n  start_ms: 80120\n  end_ms: 82430\n- text: Who's been listening to BDP\n  start_ms: 82430\n  end_ms: 84880\n- text: From 1986 to 1993?\n  start_ms: 84880\n  end_ms: 87130\n- text: Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\n  start_ms: 87130\n  end_ms: 89600\n- text: Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n  start_ms: 89600\n  end_ms: 93620\n- text: Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  start_ms: 93620\n  end_ms: 97830\n- text: As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  start_ms: 97830\n  end_ms: 101480\n- text: I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\n  start_ms: 101480\n  end_ms: 103970\n- text: Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back\n  start_ms: 103970\n  end_ms: 106150\n- text: He have the gun with the red light pon top\n  start_ms: 106150\n  end_ms: 108590\n- text: Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\n  start_ms: 108590\n  end_ms: 110730\n- text: Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\n  start_ms: 110730\n  end_ms: 113170\n- text: One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n  start_ms: 113170\n  end_ms: 115660\n- text: That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  start_ms: 115660\n  end_ms: 119550\n- text: As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  start_ms: 119550\n  end_ms: 123330\n- text: So you don't have to worry at all\n  start_ms: 123330\n  end_ms: 126350\n- text: I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\n  start_ms: 126350\n  end_ms: 130440\n- text: And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  start_ms: 130440\n  end_ms: 132900\n- text: I wanna full you up with shots\n  start_ms: 132900\n  end_ms: 135160\n- text: Shots without a limit\n  start_ms: 135160\n  end_ms: 137070\n- text: Shoot to kill\n  start_ms: 137070\n  end_ms: 139510\n- text: Shot the bwoy\n  start_ms: 139510\n  end_ms: 141780\n- text: Write him will\n  start_ms: 141780\n  end_ms: 144550\n- text: Six feet under\n  start_ms: 144550\n  end_ms: 146810\n- text: Can't come back\n  start_ms: 146810\n  end_ms: 148230\n- text: Dead man dem\n  start_ms: 148230\n  end_ms: 151510\n- text: Cannot chat\n  start_ms: 151510\n  end_ms: 153980\n- text: I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  start_ms: 153980\n  end_ms: 157090\n- text: Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  start_ms: 157090\n  end_ms: 159390\n- text: Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  start_ms: 159390\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Make them know BDP don't take chat\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164220\n- text: See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\n  start_ms: 164220\n  end_ms: 166430\n- text: Make them know BDP take the trophy home\n  start_ms: 166430\n  end_ms: 168880\n- text: Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\n  start_ms: 168880\n  end_ms: 171250\n- text: Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\n  start_ms: 171250\n  end_ms: 173640\n- text: That's why\n  start_ms: 173640\n  end_ms: 174700\n- text: All the people jump and kick up\n  start_ms: 174700\n  end_ms: 176090\n- text: Know BDP say them sweet like syrup\n  start_ms: 176090\n  end_ms: 178320\n- text: Hands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!\n  start_ms: 178320\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 188380\nplain: |-\n  I say!\n  Soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  So you don't have to worry at all\n  I shine my Glock every night until I'm satisfied\n  And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  I wanna full you up with lead\n\n  Shoot to kill, every day\n  Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n  Shoot to kill, every day\n  Shoot to kill soundboys, gun without a limit\n\n  Mi just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  Make them know bad bwoy don't take chat\n  We just shot them up (BO!), cau' we wicked like that\n  Nah tell no lie, nuff guys who a flop\n  BDP and Mad Lion combine\n  Make them know we just shot out a guy's spine\n  Wicked bad bwoy a deh pon the front line\n\n  Cau' we gun don't join church\n  Nah go a Sunday School\n  Waan diss the program bwoy?\n  You lie down in a blood pool!\n\n  Test, Kid Capri we just shot dat (BO!)\n  Test, Bobby Konders we just shot dat (BO!)\n  Funkmaster Flex, you can't test him (BO!)\n  Awesome 2, make we lick shot (BO!)\n\n  Who's been listening to BDP\n  From 1986 to 1993?\n  Hands up in the air, make the Mad Lion see\n  Lick pure shot if you love it badly (BO! BO!)\n\n  Cause soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n\n  I take a whiff of my spliff and then I ches back\n  Don't haffi worry KRS him have my back\n  He have the gun with the red light pon top\n  Willie D yes, him crazy, hold 20 mags\n  Diss the program bwoy, you pick up a shot\n  One, two, three, down, nuh take back chat\n\n  That's why soundboy, there's no need to worry\n  As long as I got my nines, I'll keep it by my side for you\n  So you don't have to worry at all\n  I shine my Glock every night, each night 'til I'm satisfied\n  And there's no more thoughts to the joy it brings\n  I wanna full you up with shots\n\n  Shots without a limit\n  Shoot to kill\n  Shot the bwoy\n  Write him will\n  Six feet under\n  Can't come back\n  Dead man dem\n  Cannot chat\n\n  I just back them up, shot them up, lick off them head\n  Nah tell no lie, a long time them fi dead\n  Aim the Glock, load it back, and step down the block\n  Make them know BDP don't take chat\n  See the bwoy waan come flex inna we zone\n  Make them know BDP take the trophy home\n  Wicked bad bwoy, and we bad to the bone\n  Listen Mad Lion pon the damn tune\n  That's why\n  All the people jump and kick up\n  Know BDP say them sweet like syrup\n  Hands up in the air and you pop BO! BO!\n"},{"id":29082672,"name":"Shoot to Kill (GLOCK Mix)","trackName":"Shoot to Kill (GLOCK Mix)","artistName":"Mad Lion","albumName":"Mixed - Nervous Hip Hop","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\nAin't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\nAnd what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\nPermanently, you just being hurt\nThis ain't gonna work for me\nIt just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\nCause we, are just gonna be, enemies\nAs long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\nComing to terms, where we can agree\nThere ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\nYou speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\nSo we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\nYou're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\nAnd settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\nA demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\nAnd you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\nI see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\nMe do this one all by my lonely\nI don't need fifteen of my homies\nWhen I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\nWe never met, but best believe you gon' know me\nWhen I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\nCome on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\nLift me up, hold me, just like you told me\nYou was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\nI'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\nNow go to sleep bitch\nDie, motherfucker, die\nUgh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\nGo to sleep, bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nHow many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\nAnd go to sleep bitch (what)\nDie motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\nGo to sleep bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nWhy, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\nGo to sleep bitch\n\nWe got you niggas nervous\nOn purpose, to hurt your focus\nYou's not MC's, you's worthless\nYou's not them G's, you's a circus\nYou's no appeal, please\nYou's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\nYou's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\nWhen lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\nYou fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\nShady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\nAnd as I mold, I become a curse\nSo we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\nCock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\nDepicts fiction in his verse\nAnd as I breathe, and you be deceased\nThe world believe you deceived just to speak\nYou's not the streets, you's the desk\nUse not your chest nigga, use a vest\nBefore two's choose ya rest, you chose death\nSix feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\nHey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\nI'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\nStalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\nUnderstand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\nPeep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\nShit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\nBut I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\nEasy going with the same one that started the fight\nHe be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\nTried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\nGrand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\nCuz it's all good, it's all right\nNiggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\nNow they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\nBlood Line, and, we can go track for track\nDamn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\nAll you motherfuckers, take that\nHere, take this too, bitch\nUh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\nWe're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\nFake ass gangsters\nNo more press\nNo more press\nRot, motherfuckers, rot\nDecay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\nDie nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\nAhh, hahahaha\nYo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Shoot to Kill (GLOCK Mix)\n  artist: Mad Lion\n  album: Mixed - Nervous Hip Hop\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\n  Ain't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\n  And what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\n  Permanently, you just being hurt\n  This ain't gonna work for me\n  It just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\n  Cause we, are just gonna be, enemies\n  As long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\n  Coming to terms, where we can agree\n  There ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\n  You speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\n  So we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\n  You're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\n  And settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\n  A demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\n  And you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\n  I see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\n  Me do this one all by my lonely\n  I don't need fifteen of my homies\n  When I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\n  We never met, but best believe you gon' know me\n  When I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\n  Come on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\n  Lift me up, hold me, just like you told me\n  You was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\n  I'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\n  Now go to sleep bitch\n  Die, motherfucker, die\n  Ugh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\n  Go to sleep, bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  How many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\n  And go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Die motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\n  Go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  Why, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\n  Go to sleep bitch\n\n  We got you niggas nervous\n  On purpose, to hurt your focus\n  You's not MC's, you's worthless\n  You's not them G's, you's a circus\n  You's no appeal, please\n  You's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\n  You's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\n  When lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\n  You fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\n  Shady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\n  And as I mold, I become a curse\n  So we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\n  Cock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\n  Depicts fiction in his verse\n  And as I breathe, and you be deceased\n  The world believe you deceived just to speak\n  You's not the streets, you's the desk\n  Use not your chest nigga, use a vest\n  Before two's choose ya rest, you chose death\n  Six feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\n  Hey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\n  I'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\n  Stalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\n  Understand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\n  Peep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\n  Shit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\n  But I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\n  Easy going with the same one that started the fight\n  He be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\n  Tried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\n  Grand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\n  Cuz it's all good, it's all right\n  Niggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\n  Now they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\n  Blood Line, and, we can go track for track\n  Damn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\n  All you motherfuckers, take that\n  Here, take this too, bitch\n  Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\n  We're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\n  Fake ass gangsters\n  No more press\n  No more press\n  Rot, motherfuckers, rot\n  Decay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\n  Die nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\n  Ahh, hahahaha\n  Yo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha\n"},{"id":28507059,"name":"Shoot To Kill (Glock Mix)","trackName":"Shoot To Kill (Glock Mix)","artistName":"Mad Lion","albumName":"Original Crooks, Original Headz","duration":226.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\nAin't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\nAnd what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\nPermanently, you just being hurt\nThis ain't gonna work for me\nIt just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\nCause we, are just gonna be, enemies\nAs long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\nComing to terms, where we can agree\nThere ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\nYou speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\nSo we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\nYou're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\nAnd settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\nA demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\nAnd you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\nI see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\nMe do this one all by my lonely\nI don't need fifteen of my homies\nWhen I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\nWe never met, but best believe you gon' know me\nWhen I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\nCome on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\nLift me up, hold me, just like you told me\nYou was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\nI'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\nNow go to sleep bitch\nDie, motherfucker, die\nUgh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\nGo to sleep, bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nHow many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\nAnd go to sleep bitch (what)\nDie motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\nGo to sleep bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nWhy, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\nGo to sleep bitch\n\nWe got you niggas nervous\nOn purpose, to hurt your focus\nYou's not MC's, you's worthless\nYou's not them G's, you's a circus\nYou's no appeal, please\nYou's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\nYou's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\nWhen lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\nYou fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\nShady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\nAnd as I mold, I become a curse\nSo we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\nCock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\nDepicts fiction in his verse\nAnd as I breathe, and you be deceased\nThe world believe you deceived just to speak\nYou's not the streets, you's the desk\nUse not your chest nigga, use a vest\nBefore two's choose ya rest, you chose death\nSix feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\nHey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\nI'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\nStalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\nUnderstand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\nPeep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\nShit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\nBut I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\nEasy going with the same one that started the fight\nHe be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\nTried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\nGrand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\nCuz it's all good, it's all right\nNiggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\nNow they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\nBlood Line, and, we can go track for track\nDamn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\nAll you motherfuckers, take that\nHere, take this too, bitch\nUh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\nWe're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\nFake ass gangsters\nNo more press\nNo more press\nRot, motherfuckers, rot\nDecay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\nDie nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\nAhh, hahahaha\nYo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Shoot To Kill (Glock Mix)\n  artist: Mad Lion\n  album: Original Crooks, Original Headz\n  duration_ms: 226000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\n  Ain't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\n  And what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\n  Permanently, you just being hurt\n  This ain't gonna work for me\n  It just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\n  Cause we, are just gonna be, enemies\n  As long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\n  Coming to terms, where we can agree\n  There ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\n  You speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\n  So we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\n  You're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\n  And settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\n  A demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\n  And you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\n  I see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\n  Me do this one all by my lonely\n  I don't need fifteen of my homies\n  When I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\n  We never met, but best believe you gon' know me\n  When I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\n  Come on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\n  Lift me up, hold me, just like you told me\n  You was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\n  I'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\n  Now go to sleep bitch\n  Die, motherfucker, die\n  Ugh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\n  Go to sleep, bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  How many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\n  And go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Die motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\n  Go to sleep bitch (what)\n  Why are you still alive\n  Why, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\n  Go to sleep bitch\n\n  We got you niggas nervous\n  On purpose, to hurt your focus\n  You's not MC's, you's worthless\n  You's not them G's, you's a circus\n  You's no appeal, please\n  You's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\n  You's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\n  When lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\n  You fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\n  Shady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\n  And as I mold, I become a curse\n  So we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\n  Cock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\n  Depicts fiction in his verse\n  And as I breathe, and you be deceased\n  The world believe you deceived just to speak\n  You's not the streets, you's the desk\n  Use not your chest nigga, use a vest\n  Before two's choose ya rest, you chose death\n  Six feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\n  Hey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\n  I'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\n  Stalk on the beat, walk wit MY feet\n  Understand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\n  Peep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\n  Shit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\n  But I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\n  Easy going with the same one that started the fight\n  He be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\n  Tried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\n  Grand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\n  Cuz it's all good, it's all right\n  Niggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\n  Now they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\n  Blood Line, and, we can go track for track\n  Damn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\n  All you motherfuckers, take that\n  Here, take this too, bitch\n  Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\n  We're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\n  Fake ass gangsters\n  No more press\n  No more press\n  Rot, motherfuckers, rot\n  Decay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\n  Die nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\n  Ahh, hahahaha\n  Yo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha\n"}]