[{"id":15256070,"name":"Goldyn Chyld","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld","duration":218.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld\n  duration_ms: 218000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":22386419,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (prod by DJ Premier)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (prod by DJ Premier)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld","duration":217.678367,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (prod by DJ Premier)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld\n  duration_ms: 217678\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":23230105,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (Prod By Dj Premier)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (Prod By Dj Premier)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld Unreleased 2003","duration":217.626667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (Prod By Dj Premier)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld Unreleased 2003\n  duration_ms: 217627\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":31348703,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (Instrumental) (produced by DJ Premier)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (Instrumental) (produced by DJ Premier)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld (Promo VLS) (12\")","duration":219.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (Instrumental) (produced by DJ Premier)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld (Promo VLS) (12\")\n  duration_ms: 219000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":32869247,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (Clean) (scratches & produced by DJ Premier)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (Clean) (scratches & produced by DJ Premier)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld (Promo VLS) (12\")","duration":219.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (Clean) (scratches & produced by DJ Premier)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld (Promo VLS) (12\")\n  duration_ms: 219000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":38478341,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (Dirty) (scratches & produced by DJ Premier)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (Dirty) (scratches & produced by DJ Premier)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld (Promo VLS) (12\")","duration":219.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (Dirty) (scratches & produced by DJ Premier)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld (Promo VLS) (12\")\n  duration_ms: 219000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":30048875,"name":"Van Gogh","trackName":"Van Gogh","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Goldyn Chyld","duration":257.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"* Send corrections to the typist\n\nAh, celebrate\nHahaha, yeah, ah\nVita Brevis, Ars Longa\nLife is short, art is long\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't of left you\nBut Priority Records be fuckin' up, nephew\n\nExtraterrestrial poet, my pen stroke is grotesque\nRugged nigga, abrasive to any fo'flesh\nSo let's paint a thousand words worth a picture\nPanoramic though, more esoteric than hieroglyphs and scriptures\nAnd chemical mixtures, spit your's, not just kick words\nSpit swords when we joust from the mouth dogg\nHeard he got the hottest shit out, but Titanic emcees\nSomehow manage to freeze\nFracture your flows so bandage your steez, no royalties\nSubtract his mathematics like I was droppin' satanic degrees\nLong time no see chico, still eatin' pussy at the Nico? (ha haaa)\nI'm screamin' \"Power to the people\"\nMost times, genius is misunderstood, but understand\nYou stand under unstable tables of foundation\nMy true occupation, dissemination of information\nUsin' both sides of the brain, and I ain't complacent\nComplain when I speak, fuck Priority Records\nLike Prince, I'm writin' \"slave\" on my cheek, cause my kids gotta eat\nMeanwhile A&R's sniffin' coke, gettin' kickbacks, fuck that\nMy written's like Christ wit a cross on his back\nI'll breathe a total Black experience on a track\nWhat use to be hot was what a emcee said\nNow Hip-Hop don't respect you unless you platinum or dead\n\n[Hook]\nI'm Van Gogh, Van Gog\nBut you don't hear me though\nYou're too near me not to hear me\nClearly, cut off my ear severely\nVan Gogh, Van Gogh, Van Gogh (yeah)\nBut you don't hear me though\nYou're too near me not to hear me\nClearly, cut off my ear severely\n\nI'm down wit Violet Brown and ebony cats\nDown wit 65 niggaz packin' 70 gats\nI'm down wit Shinehead, Big Gipp, Goodie M-O-B\nMy nigga Twista, Killah Priest, and Pimp C\nFrom UGK, Do Or Die, AK\nQwest the Mad LaD, Wendy Day\nI self lord am master art form, metaphors and furthermore\nVerbal masterpiece to master war, then master more\nCause a real nigga known to flow rigor mortis to stiffen your riffin'\nThugged out without Bloodin' or Crippin', till the needle start skippin'\nThe cut fuck your hairline up like Scott Pippen\nHuh, hopin' the dummies stop frontin'\nI'm like Illmatic, meets the Good Will Huntin'\nVocal innovator, be equal to or greater\nGivin' people levels to digest the data\nCause you can't teach algebra to first graders\nI'll school a hustler, about the Sixteen Crucified Saviors\nChrishna of India was Black, Quexalcote of Mexico, Black\nBuddha was Black, actual facts\nBut niggaz only wanna know about money, pussy, and crack\nI practiced building this strong rap track, and that's that\nPhat rap, y'all keepin' it real, well that's wack\nMy rap snap torso, and crack back\nDoin' this, that and the third\nGivin' you my ear like Van Gogh, nigga, ya heard\nWent to New York state, pushin' rhymes like weight\nAnd watch some of these rap niggaz hate (what in the homo)\nBut it's all love, Ice Cube did it, 2pac did it\nAnd no matter what, I'ma die shittin', motherfucker\nJosh Petell wrote *\"The Disenchanted Hero\"*\nHell no\n\n[Hook]\nI'm Van Gogh, Van Gogh\nBut you don't hear me though\nYou're too near me not to hear me\nClearly, cut off my ear severely\nVan Gogh, Van Gogh, Van Gogh\nBut you don't hear me though\nYou're too near me not to hear me\nClearly, cut off my ear severely\nVan Gogh, Van Gogh (yeah)\nCause really though, how I'm supposed to really blow\nWhen you drop a album every 2 years and only shoot one video?\n\n[DJ Khalil]\nDamn, Ras\n\n[Ras Kass]\nMan, Khalil, they ain't gon' never understand, but don't trip\nThese labels, these magazines, radio, video shows...\nThey just as groupie as the groupies\nThey just as guilty as the artists for not keepin' this shit true\nBut hey, you gotta love it or leave it alone\nAn' I still love this ol' Hip-Hop shit\nSo just respect it when I get my championship ring, you know","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Van Gogh\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Goldyn Chyld\n  duration_ms: 257000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  * Send corrections to the typist\n\n  Ah, celebrate\n  Hahaha, yeah, ah\n  Vita Brevis, Ars Longa\n  Life is short, art is long\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't of left you\n  But Priority Records be fuckin' up, nephew\n\n  Extraterrestrial poet, my pen stroke is grotesque\n  Rugged nigga, abrasive to any fo'flesh\n  So let's paint a thousand words worth a picture\n  Panoramic though, more esoteric than hieroglyphs and scriptures\n  And chemical mixtures, spit your's, not just kick words\n  Spit swords when we joust from the mouth dogg\n  Heard he got the hottest shit out, but Titanic emcees\n  Somehow manage to freeze\n  Fracture your flows so bandage your steez, no royalties\n  Subtract his mathematics like I was droppin' satanic degrees\n  Long time no see chico, still eatin' pussy at the Nico? (ha haaa)\n  I'm screamin' \"Power to the people\"\n  Most times, genius is misunderstood, but understand\n  You stand under unstable tables of foundation\n  My true occupation, dissemination of information\n  Usin' both sides of the brain, and I ain't complacent\n  Complain when I speak, fuck Priority Records\n  Like Prince, I'm writin' \"slave\" on my cheek, cause my kids gotta eat\n  Meanwhile A&R's sniffin' coke, gettin' kickbacks, fuck that\n  My written's like Christ wit a cross on his back\n  I'll breathe a total Black experience on a track\n  What use to be hot was what a emcee said\n  Now Hip-Hop don't respect you unless you platinum or dead\n\n  [Hook]\n  I'm Van Gogh, Van Gog\n  But you don't hear me though\n  You're too near me not to hear me\n  Clearly, cut off my ear severely\n  Van Gogh, Van Gogh, Van Gogh (yeah)\n  But you don't hear me though\n  You're too near me not to hear me\n  Clearly, cut off my ear severely\n\n  I'm down wit Violet Brown and ebony cats\n  Down wit 65 niggaz packin' 70 gats\n  I'm down wit Shinehead, Big Gipp, Goodie M-O-B\n  My nigga Twista, Killah Priest, and Pimp C\n  From UGK, Do Or Die, AK\n  Qwest the Mad LaD, Wendy Day\n  I self lord am master art form, metaphors and furthermore\n  Verbal masterpiece to master war, then master more\n  Cause a real nigga known to flow rigor mortis to stiffen your riffin'\n  Thugged out without Bloodin' or Crippin', till the needle start skippin'\n  The cut fuck your hairline up like Scott Pippen\n  Huh, hopin' the dummies stop frontin'\n  I'm like Illmatic, meets the Good Will Huntin'\n  Vocal innovator, be equal to or greater\n  Givin' people levels to digest the data\n  Cause you can't teach algebra to first graders\n  I'll school a hustler, about the Sixteen Crucified Saviors\n  Chrishna of India was Black, Quexalcote of Mexico, Black\n  Buddha was Black, actual facts\n  But niggaz only wanna know about money, pussy, and crack\n  I practiced building this strong rap track, and that's that\n  Phat rap, y'all keepin' it real, well that's wack\n  My rap snap torso, and crack back\n  Doin' this, that and the third\n  Givin' you my ear like Van Gogh, nigga, ya heard\n  Went to New York state, pushin' rhymes like weight\n  And watch some of these rap niggaz hate (what in the homo)\n  But it's all love, Ice Cube did it, 2pac did it\n  And no matter what, I'ma die shittin', motherfucker\n  Josh Petell wrote *\"The Disenchanted Hero\"*\n  Hell no\n\n  [Hook]\n  I'm Van Gogh, Van Gogh\n  But you don't hear me though\n  You're too near me not to hear me\n  Clearly, cut off my ear severely\n  Van Gogh, Van Gogh, Van Gogh\n  But you don't hear me though\n  You're too near me not to hear me\n  Clearly, cut off my ear severely\n  Van Gogh, Van Gogh (yeah)\n  Cause really though, how I'm supposed to really blow\n  When you drop a album every 2 years and only shoot one video?\n\n  [DJ Khalil]\n  Damn, Ras\n\n  [Ras Kass]\n  Man, Khalil, they ain't gon' never understand, but don't trip\n  These labels, these magazines, radio, video shows...\n  They just as groupie as the groupies\n  They just as guilty as the artists for not keepin' this shit true\n  But hey, you gotta love it or leave it alone\n  An' I still love this ol' Hip-Hop shit\n  So just respect it when I get my championship ring, you know\n"},{"id":332434,"name":"Goldyn Chyld","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Van Gogh","duration":255.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nFor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Van Gogh\n  duration_ms: 255000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nFor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":29002120,"name":"Goldyn Chyld","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"EMI New Music Sampler","duration":222.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nFor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: EMI New Music Sampler\n  duration_ms: 222000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nFor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":28674767,"name":"Goldyn Chyld","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Van Gogh","duration":253.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nFor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Van Gogh\n  duration_ms: 253000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nFor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":28288750,"name":"Goldyn Chyld","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Van Gogh","duration":249.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nFor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Van Gogh\n  duration_ms: 249000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nAll my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nWith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nTo give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nFor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nNow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nYou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":22409885,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (remix)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (remix)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"The Endangered Lyricist","duration":217.730612,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (remix)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: The Endangered Lyricist\n  duration_ms: 217731\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":28963679,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (Remix)","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (Remix)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"The Endangered Lyricist (Mixtape)","duration":218.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (Remix)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: The Endangered Lyricist (Mixtape)\n  duration_ms: 218000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":29792704,"name":"03 Goldyn Chyld (Remix)","trackName":"03 Goldyn Chyld (Remix)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"The Endangered Lyricist","duration":218.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 03 Goldyn Chyld (Remix)\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: The Endangered Lyricist\n  duration_ms: 218000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"},{"id":25554046,"name":"Goldyn Chyld (Prod. By DJ Prem","trackName":"Goldyn Chyld (Prod. By DJ Prem","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Verbal Murder","duration":217.6,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Haha... (golden child)\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\nAhh...\n\n(Verse 1)\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\nfor resurrecting our cave language\nAnd for saying, \"Same shit, different toilet...\"\nThe game ain't about who talented\nIt's about who soundscannin\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\n\n(Verse 2)\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\nStartin a movement to move men\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\nTell the next nigga he lesser\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\n\n(Chorus) - 2X\n\n(Verse 3)\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\nPop locks and burglarize spots\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\nC-Arson style, know how we do\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\n\n(Chorus) - 1X\n\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\n\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\" ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Goldyn Chyld (Prod. By DJ Prem\n  artist: Ras Kass\n  album: Verbal Murder\n  duration_ms: 217600\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"Haha... (golden child)\\nYeah, ahh, ahh, yeah, is you wit me?\\nWhattup? Y'all done forgot about lil' ole me?\\nY'all don't love me no mo'?\\nIt's all good... all my real rowdy niggaz\\nall my real niggaz ride witcha boy one time\\nAhh...\\n\\n(Verse 1)\\nLyrically, I smoke whoever it may concern\\nEven wearing a 21 milligram patch of Niccoderm\\nBeen broke before; ain't nuttin new\\nBut ain't nuttin never knew me not to say 'fuck you'\\nSo had my nuts not grew - I'd still hang in the streets\\nwith lil' niggaz who still bang just to eat\\nBang with the heat - the waterproof spit blazes\\nto give y'all niggaz the business like the yellow pages\\nEnter the dark ages, enter and spark stage\\nFor whatever wages, until I'm famous\\nfor resurrecting our cave language\\nAnd for saying, \\\"Same shit, different toilet...\\\"\\nThe game ain't about who talented\\nIt's about who soundscannin\\nnow them same clowns maddened (peep game)\\nGo figure, lyricist of the year is a white boy\\nAnd the greatest golfer; a confused nigga\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\nAin't no motherfuckin west without a R-ah-A-S\\n\\n(Verse 2)\\nI was taught to rhyme undeniably, and force niggaz to think\\nSo if you need to dance so fuckin much then buy Nsync\\nStartin a movement to move men\\nMotivational millimeter mouth or repeated and need a monster\\nMe; I be the agua - waterproof got a lotta truth\\nSpit-slaughter a lotta groups\\nRidin without a crew, nod off without a loop\\nBlackout like a ligular, just a nigga that clown\\nWith a suicidal groupie in a jacuzzi pullin my shorts down\\nGivin me underwater head 'til I nut and she drowns\\nNow how the fuck we sound? (man rap is outta control)\\n(I gotta smoke something) yo homie bust me down\\nTook a pull off a Newport and passed it back\\nNuts hang like I had an elastic sack\\nSpastic blaps of our kind of plastic claps\\nWanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?\\nCuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines\\nMeanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine\\nTell the next nigga he lesser\\nCuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor\\nSo now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine\\nMeanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime\\nIntroduction to the Matrix -- I say the shit\\nyou know is true but wanna ignore, metamorph metaphors\\n\\n(Chorus) - 2X\\n\\n(Verse 3)\\nI pop my collar, pop pistols, and pop ecstasy\\nBoricuas call me Poppi when they pop they pussy\\nUsed to pop-lock and lock and watch\\nPop locks and burglarize spots\\nPop wheelies on the red and chrome Huffy\\nGraduated to Suzukis - hot soda pop or pop bottles at Sky Sushi\\nNow ask me what's poppin; most likely ya collar bone\\nEver had that feelin where ya by yourself and your not alone\\nWith Big Brother, and Big Brother see you\\nI'm hard-headed, my dick look like R2-D2\\nLike Mini-Me too - speed through in the V-1-2\\nC-Arson style, know how we do\\nAll money is legal, dead pres and green eagles\\nYou funny style like Bernie Mac, rappin like Beanie Sigel\\nGolden Child of the west, don't know how to act though\\nKicked off the Up In Smoke tour for scrappin with Death Row\\n\\n(Chorus) - 1X\\n\\n(2nd Chorus) - 1X\\nAnd that's gangsta, without bangin a set\\nBig nuts on deck ain't even hangin 'em yet\\nSee it's just some things they should never forget\\n\\\"Ain't no west with Kurupt with a R-ah-A-S\\\" \"\n"}]