[{"id":6307362,"name":"Rasassination","trackName":"Rasassination","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":276.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nWhat, yeah yeah\n1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\nY'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\nY'all like little bitches\nI'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\nYou ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\nLike a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\nOn me, fuck they whole batallion\nI'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\nI'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\nPuttin black eyes in the game like mascara\nDiabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\nThese venomous techniques, I leave heat\nA nigga gots to have it in these streets\nBubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\nScreamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\nWrite my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\nCowards make a little cheese then enlarge\nArtificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\nI'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\nRacin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n[Chorus]\nWalk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation's the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\nSee that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation is the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n[Ras Kass]\nStay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\nAskin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\nWalkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\nYou shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\nI'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\nBut realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\nWhile me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\nWit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\nFight night (Sho' ya right)\nThe dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\nAnd I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\nLike that super hero with the lantern and ring,\nThen watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\nChampagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\nSee me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\nWe be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\nSing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nNow welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\nHoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\nBusta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\nSo nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\nGhetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\nFrom the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\nTellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\nIf ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\nBill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\nCause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\nBustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\nCuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\nCondom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\nMakin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\nHalf god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\nOuiji boards from the philla-gilla,\nHave dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nYeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\nRhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\nListen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\nY'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\nIf you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\nAll y'all bitch ass niggas\nTrying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\nI'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\nRasassination","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Rasassination\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 276000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n What, yeah yeah\n 1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\n Y'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\n Y'all like little bitches\n I'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\n You ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\n Like a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\n On me, fuck they whole batallion\n I'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\n I'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\n Puttin black eyes in the game like mascara\n Diabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\n These venomous techniques, I leave heat\n A nigga gots to have it in these streets\n Bubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\n Screamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\n Write my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\n Cowards make a little cheese then enlarge\n Artificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\n I'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\n Racin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n [Chorus]\n Walk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation's the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n See that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation is the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Stay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\n Askin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\n Walkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\n You shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\n I'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\n But realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\n While me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\n Wit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\n Fight night (Sho' ya right)\n The dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\n And I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\n Like that super hero with the lantern and ring,\n Then watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\n Champagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\n See me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\n We be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\n Sing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Now welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\n Hoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\n Busta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\n So nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\n Ghetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\n From the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\n Tellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\n If ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\n Bill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\n Cause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\n Bustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\n Cuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\n Condom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\n Makin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\n Half god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\n Ouiji boards from the philla-gilla,\n Have dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Yeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\n Rhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\n Listen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\n Y'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\n If you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\n All y'all bitch ass niggas\n Trying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\n I'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\n Rasassination\n"},{"id":29044516,"name":"02 rasassination","trackName":"02 rasassination","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":276.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nWhat, yeah yeah\n1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\nY'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\nY'all like little bitches\nI'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\nYou ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\nLike a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\nOn me, fuck they whole batallion\nI'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\nI'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\nPuttin black eyes in the game like mascara\nDiabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\nThese venomous techniques, I leave heat\nA nigga gots to have it in these streets\nBubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\nScreamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\nWrite my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\nCowards make a little cheese then enlarge\nArtificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\nI'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\nRacin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n[chorus]\nWalk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation's the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\nSee that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation is the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n[Ras Kass]\nStay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\nAskin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\nWalkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\nYou shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\nI'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\nBut realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\nWhile me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\nWit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\nFight night (Sho' ya right)\nThe dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\nAnd I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\nLike that super hero with the lantern and ring,\nThen watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\nChampagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\nSee me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\nWe be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\nSing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n[chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nNow welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\nHoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\nBusta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\nSo nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\nGhetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\nFrom the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\nTellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\nIf ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\nBill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\nCause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\nBustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\nCuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\nCondom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\nMakin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\nHalf god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\nOuiji boards from the philla-gilla,\nHave dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n[chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nYeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\nRhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\nListen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\nY'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\nIf you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\nAll y'all bitch ass niggas\nTrying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\nI'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\nRasassination","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: 02 rasassination\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 276000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n What, yeah yeah\n 1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\n Y'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\n Y'all like little bitches\n I'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\n You ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\n Like a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\n On me, fuck they whole batallion\n I'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\n I'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\n Puttin black eyes in the game like mascara\n Diabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\n These venomous techniques, I leave heat\n A nigga gots to have it in these streets\n Bubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\n Screamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\n Write my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\n Cowards make a little cheese then enlarge\n Artificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\n I'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\n Racin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n [chorus]\n Walk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation's the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n See that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation is the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Stay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\n Askin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\n Walkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\n You shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\n I'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\n But realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\n While me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\n Wit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\n Fight night (Sho' ya right)\n The dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\n And I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\n Like that super hero with the lantern and ring,\n Then watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\n Champagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\n See me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\n We be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\n Sing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n [chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Now welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\n Hoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\n Busta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\n So nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\n Ghetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\n From the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\n Tellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\n If ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\n Bill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\n Cause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\n Bustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\n Cuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\n Condom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\n Makin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\n Half god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\n Ouiji boards from the philla-gilla,\n Have dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n [chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Yeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\n Rhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\n Listen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\n Y'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\n If you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\n All y'all bitch ass niggas\n Trying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\n I'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\n Rasassination\n"},{"id":9389052,"name":"Rasassination","trackName":"Rasassination","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination (The End)","duration":276.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nWhat, yeah yeah\n1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\nY'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\nY'all like little bitches\nI'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\nYou ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\nLike a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\nOn me, fuck they whole batallion\nI'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\nI'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\nPuttin black eyes in the game like mascara\nDiabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\nThese venomous techniques, I leave heat\nA nigga gots to have it in these streets\nBubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\nScreamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\nWrite my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\nCowards make a little cheese then enlarge\nArtificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\nI'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\nRacin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n[chorus]\nWalk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation's the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\nSee that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation is the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n[Ras Kass]\nStay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\nAskin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\nWalkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\nYou shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\nI'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\nBut realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\nWhile me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\nWit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\nFight night (Sho' ya right)\nThe dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\nAnd I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\nLike that super hero with the lantern and ring,\nThen watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\nChampagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\nSee me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\nWe be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\nSing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n[chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nNow welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\nHoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\nBusta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\nSo nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\nGhetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\nFrom the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\nTellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\nIf ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\nBill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\nCause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\nBustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\nCuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\nCondom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\nMakin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\nHalf god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\nOuiji boards from the philla-gilla,\nHave dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n[chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nYeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\nRhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\nListen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\nY'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\nIf you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\nAll y'all bitch ass niggas\nTrying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\nI'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\nRasassination","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Rasassination\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination (The End)\n duration_ms: 276000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n What, yeah yeah\n 1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\n Y'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\n Y'all like little bitches\n I'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\n You ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\n Like a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\n On me, fuck they whole batallion\n I'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\n I'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\n Puttin black eyes in the game like mascara\n Diabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\n These venomous techniques, I leave heat\n A nigga gots to have it in these streets\n Bubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\n Screamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\n Write my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\n Cowards make a little cheese then enlarge\n Artificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\n I'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\n Racin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n [chorus]\n Walk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation's the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n See that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation is the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Stay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\n Askin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\n Walkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\n You shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\n I'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\n But realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\n While me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\n Wit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\n Fight night (Sho' ya right)\n The dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\n And I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\n Like that super hero with the lantern and ring,\n Then watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\n Champagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\n See me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\n We be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\n Sing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n [chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Now welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\n Hoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\n Busta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\n So nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\n Ghetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\n From the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\n Tellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\n If ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\n Bill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\n Cause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\n Bustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\n Cuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\n Condom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\n Makin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\n Half god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\n Ouiji boards from the philla-gilla,\n Have dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n [chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Yeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\n Rhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\n Listen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\n Y'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\n If you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\n All y'all bitch ass niggas\n Trying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\n I'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\n Rasassination\n"},{"id":6307361,"name":"Rasassination","trackName":"Rasassination","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination (The End) (Explicit)","duration":276.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nWhat, yeah yeah\n1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\nY'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\nY'all like little bitches\nI'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\nYou ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\nLike a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\nOn me, fuck they whole batallion\nI'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\nI'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\nPuttin black eyes in the game like mascara\nDiabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\nThese venomous techniques, I leave heat\nA nigga gots to have it in these streets\nBubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\nScreamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\nWrite my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\nCowards make a little cheese then enlarge\nArtificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\nI'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\nRacin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n[Chorus]\nWalk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation's the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\nSee that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation is the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n[Ras Kass]\nStay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\nAskin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\nWalkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\nYou shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\nI'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\nBut realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\nWhile me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\nWit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\nFight night (Sho' ya right)\nThe dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\nAnd I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\nLike that super hero with the lantern and ring,\nThen watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\nChampagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\nSee me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\nWe be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\nSing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nNow welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\nHoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\nBusta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\nSo nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\nGhetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\nFrom the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\nTellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\nIf ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\nBill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\nCause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\nBustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\nCuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\nCondom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\nMakin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\nHalf god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\nOuiji boards from the philla-gilla,\nHave dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nYeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\nRhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\nListen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\nY'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\nIf you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\nAll y'all bitch ass niggas\nTrying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\nI'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\nRasassination","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Rasassination\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination (The End) (Explicit)\n duration_ms: 276000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n What, yeah yeah\n 1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\n Y'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\n Y'all like little bitches\n I'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\n You ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\n Like a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\n On me, fuck they whole batallion\n I'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\n I'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\n Puttin black eyes in the game like mascara\n Diabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\n These venomous techniques, I leave heat\n A nigga gots to have it in these streets\n Bubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\n Screamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\n Write my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\n Cowards make a little cheese then enlarge\n Artificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\n I'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\n Racin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n [Chorus]\n Walk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation's the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n See that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation is the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Stay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\n Askin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\n Walkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\n You shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\n I'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\n But realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\n While me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\n Wit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\n Fight night (Sho' ya right)\n The dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\n And I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\n Like that super hero with the lantern and ring,\n Then watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\n Champagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\n See me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\n We be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\n Sing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Now welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\n Hoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\n Busta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\n So nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\n Ghetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\n From the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\n Tellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\n If ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\n Bill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\n Cause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\n Bustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\n Cuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\n Condom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\n Makin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\n Half god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\n Ouiji boards from the philla-gilla,\n Have dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Yeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\n Rhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\n Listen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\n Y'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\n If you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\n All y'all bitch ass niggas\n Trying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\n I'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\n Rasassination\n"},{"id":36755732,"name":"It Is What It Is (Dirty)","trackName":"It Is What It Is (Dirty)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Ras Kass - Rasassination bw It Is What It Is 12\"","duration":295.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring jazze pha\n\nI been around the world once had your fiancé twice\nI ain't nothin' nice but every lifestyle got a price\n\nKiss my momma on the cheek cause her love was deep\nLike keith sweat but the deeper the streets get\nThe deeper the beef get\nEnough fatal attraction to??? your vet\nCause everybody wanna have it??? and sh\nNow??? is my??? over night insight\nI write like six hundred thousand kilobytes\nYes i'm on one, european cars, cuban cigars, rap stars,\nGlass ceilings to the inevitable cap dealing for sexual healing\nI lack feeling, voted for black women like terry macmillan\nSave a prayer for me, i was told no guts no glory\nI shed a tear once in a while, too\nBut a soldier gots to do what he gots to do\nI once??? in??? for rupert murdoch, i thought you knew\nIt is what it is\n\nnowadays, that's the way it is\nwhy do we do what we do when we do what we must, that's\nHow it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\nit's sad to say, but things just ain't the same no more\nwhy do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is\nWhat it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\n\nIf the pussy is free, then talk is cheap\nThen again, it's probably cheaper to keep her\nBack in the days, all a nigga needed was suede pumas and a beeper\nNow they all expecting condos, briquettes and pet cheetahs\nSee ya when i see ya\nAnd by then i know the motors she bogus i noticed they jockin the rims on\nThe???\nI learned early to trust god when moms was like You need to swoosh your ass and get a job\nMy occupation be operation, more horsepower than daytona\nCause i'm a rider, like wynonna\nBeing nice is a vice, the gift is naturally mine\nThat's like grand verbalizing not knowin the time\nSee, my partners commit crimes servin federal???\nConfined to a six by nine regretin the wrong shit he did\nI swig, wishing we was still little kids\nBut we grown men now homey, it is what it is\n\nHip hop ain't even fun\nIn these strange days, rappers is getting done\nLike jericho won\nWithin two months, two major artists got slumped\nI whispered 'god rest the dead' and let the??? pump pump\nKept a??? since about eleventh grade\nRock the donna carren shades\nCause i don't like to dream about getting paid\nBut i'm afraid i do\nTrying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines\nThis supreme fiends for cream\nWe need g's, like mary magdelline and born again christians\nAin't a politician cause i already got your vote\nTrue, i want your money but i ain't a preacher no\nI don't even love the dough\nBut if you don't work you don't eat, so i want all i can get before i go\nI love what money can get\nIt's elementary evidently, the custom convertible bentley tently\nIt is what it is\n\nx2\n\nThere are things that we can change\nSome things remain the same\nThat's just the way it is\nWay it goes, yeah\nThere are things that we can change\nBut most things gon' stay the same\nIt's the way it is\nYou better believe it, ooh yeah","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: It Is What It Is (Dirty)\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Ras Kass - Rasassination bw It Is What It Is 12\"\n duration_ms: 295000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Featuring jazze pha\n\n I been around the world once had your fiancé twice\n I ain't nothin' nice but every lifestyle got a price\n\n Kiss my momma on the cheek cause her love was deep\n Like keith sweat but the deeper the streets get\n The deeper the beef get\n Enough fatal attraction to??? your vet\n Cause everybody wanna have it??? and sh\n Now??? is my??? over night insight\n I write like six hundred thousand kilobytes\n Yes i'm on one, european cars, cuban cigars, rap stars,\n Glass ceilings to the inevitable cap dealing for sexual healing\n I lack feeling, voted for black women like terry macmillan\n Save a prayer for me, i was told no guts no glory\n I shed a tear once in a while, too\n But a soldier gots to do what he gots to do\n I once??? in??? for rupert murdoch, i thought you knew\n It is what it is\n\n nowadays, that's the way it is\n why do we do what we do when we do what we must, that's\n How it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\n it's sad to say, but things just ain't the same no more\n why do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is\n What it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\n\n If the pussy is free, then talk is cheap\n Then again, it's probably cheaper to keep her\n Back in the days, all a nigga needed was suede pumas and a beeper\n Now they all expecting condos, briquettes and pet cheetahs\n See ya when i see ya\n And by then i know the motors she bogus i noticed they jockin the rims on\n The???\n I learned early to trust god when moms was like You need to swoosh your ass and get a job\n My occupation be operation, more horsepower than daytona\n Cause i'm a rider, like wynonna\n Being nice is a vice, the gift is naturally mine\n That's like grand verbalizing not knowin the time\n See, my partners commit crimes servin federal???\n Confined to a six by nine regretin the wrong shit he did\n I swig, wishing we was still little kids\n But we grown men now homey, it is what it is\n\n Hip hop ain't even fun\n In these strange days, rappers is getting done\n Like jericho won\n Within two months, two major artists got slumped\n I whispered 'god rest the dead' and let the??? pump pump\n Kept a??? since about eleventh grade\n Rock the donna carren shades\n Cause i don't like to dream about getting paid\n But i'm afraid i do\n Trying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines\n This supreme fiends for cream\n We need g's, like mary magdelline and born again christians\n Ain't a politician cause i already got your vote\n True, i want your money but i ain't a preacher no\n I don't even love the dough\n But if you don't work you don't eat, so i want all i can get before i go\n I love what money can get\n It's elementary evidently, the custom convertible bentley tently\n It is what it is\n\n x2\n\n There are things that we can change\n Some things remain the same\n That's just the way it is\n Way it goes, yeah\n There are things that we can change\n But most things gon' stay the same\n It's the way it is\n You better believe it, ooh yeah\n"},{"id":35393289,"name":"Rasassination","trackName":"Rasassination","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"The Endangered Lyricist","duration":244.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nWhat, yeah yeah\n1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\nY'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\nY'all like little bitches\nI'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\nYou ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\nLike a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\nOn me, fuck they whole batallion\nI'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\nI'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\nPuttin black eyes in the game like mascara\nDiabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\nThese venomous techniques, I leave heat\nA nigga gots to have it in these streets\nBubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\nScreamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\nWrite my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\nCowards make a little cheese then enlarge\nArtificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\nI'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\nRacin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n[Chorus]\nWalk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation's the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\nSee that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation is the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n[Ras Kass]\nStay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\nAskin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\nWalkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\nYou shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\nI'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\nBut realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\nWhile me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\nWit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\nFight night (Sho' ya right)\nThe dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\nAnd I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\nLike that super hero with the lantern and ring,\nThen watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\nChampagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\nSee me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\nWe be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\nSing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nNow welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\nHoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\nBusta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\nSo nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\nGhetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\nFrom the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\nTellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\nIf ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\nBill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\nCause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\nBustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\nCuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\nCondom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\nMakin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\nHalf god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\nOuiji boards from the philla-gilla,\nHave dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nYeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\nRhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\nListen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\nY'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\nIf you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\nAll y'all bitch ass niggas\nTrying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\nI'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\nRasassination","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Rasassination\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: The Endangered Lyricist\n duration_ms: 244000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n What, yeah yeah\n 1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\n Y'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\n Y'all like little bitches\n I'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\n You ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\n Like a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\n On me, fuck they whole batallion\n I'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\n I'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\n Puttin black eyes in the game like mascara\n Diabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\n These venomous techniques, I leave heat\n A nigga gots to have it in these streets\n Bubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\n Screamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\n Write my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\n Cowards make a little cheese then enlarge\n Artificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\n I'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\n Racin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n [Chorus]\n Walk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation's the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n See that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation is the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Stay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\n Askin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\n Walkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\n You shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\n I'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\n But realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\n While me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\n Wit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\n Fight night (Sho' ya right)\n The dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\n And I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\n Like that super hero with the lantern and ring,\n Then watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\n Champagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\n See me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\n We be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\n Sing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Now welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\n Hoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\n Busta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\n So nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\n Ghetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\n From the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\n Tellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\n If ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\n Bill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\n Cause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\n Bustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\n Cuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\n Condom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\n Makin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\n Half god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\n Ouiji boards from the philla-gilla,\n Have dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Yeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\n Rhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\n Listen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\n Y'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\n If you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\n All y'all bitch ass niggas\n Trying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\n I'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\n Rasassination\n"},{"id":28967487,"name":"Rasassination","trackName":"Rasassination","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"The Endangered Lyricist (Mixtape)","duration":244.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nWhat, yeah yeah\n1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\nY'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\nY'all like little bitches\nI'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\nYou ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\nLike a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\nOn me, fuck they whole batallion\nI'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\nI'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\nPuttin black eyes in the game like mascara\nDiabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\nThese venomous techniques, I leave heat\nA nigga gots to have it in these streets\nBubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\nScreamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\nWrite my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\nCowards make a little cheese then enlarge\nArtificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\nI'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\nRacin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n[Chorus]\nWalk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation's the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\nSee that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\nNigga, rasasanation is the name\nI'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n[Ras Kass]\nStay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\nAskin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\nWalkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\nYou shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\nI'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\nBut realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\nWhile me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\nWit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\nFight night (Sho' ya right)\nThe dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\nAnd I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\nLike that super hero with the lantern and ring,\nThen watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\nChampagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\nSee me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\nWe be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\nSing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nNow welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\nHoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\nBusta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\nSo nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\nGhetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\nFrom the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\nTellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\nIf ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\nBill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\nCause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\nBustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\nCuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\nCondom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\nMakin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\nHalf god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\nOuiji boards from the philla-gilla,\nHave dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n[Chorus]\n\n[Ras Kass]\nYeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\nRhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\nListen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\nY'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\nIf you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\nAll y'all bitch ass niggas\nTrying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\nI'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\nRasassination","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Rasassination\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: The Endangered Lyricist (Mixtape)\n duration_ms: 244000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n What, yeah yeah\n 1-9-9-9, the \"Waterproof\" nigga\n Y'all little faggot ass niggas, you always gotta fuckin' comment\n Y'all like little bitches\n I'ma pull your skirt up, fo' sho\n\n You ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick wit' me\n Like a gracie I choke a nigga out wit' his own gi\n On me, fuck they whole batallion\n I'll chop ya head off and wear ya skull like sophmore medallions, papi\n I'm the one wit da million dolla' smile and three dollars to my name\n Puttin black eyes in the game like mascara\n Diabetic MC's must think shit is sweet\n These venomous techniques, I leave heat\n A nigga gots to have it in these streets\n Bubble eyed G-S on they teams wit beats\n Screamin, \"I'll make ya famous,\"\n Write my rhymes in alien and battle niggas in sign language\n Cowards make a little cheese then enlarge\n Artificially, like Pamela Anderson Lee's double D's, please\n I'm bangin from Belize to Tel Aviv on the Red Sea\n Racin' Saddam Hussein on Kawasaki jet ski's\n\n [Chorus]\n Walk holdin' my nuts, I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make Lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation's the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n See that's wussup, only I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it'll make lil' Kim blush\n Nigga, rasasanation is the name\n I'ma put it on a bullet, and put it in ya brain\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Stay pussy as a pantha, puffin' a hav-a-tampa\n Askin rappers, \"What do you call a million rabbits\n Walkin' backwards?\" (backround) A recedin' hairline\n You shouldn't be nervous though, cuz if I blow\n I'ma buy ya record contrac, neva shoot a video\n But realy though, is ya nice without rent-a-cars and hype? (nope)\n While me and my 12 homies, sip wine like Jesus Christ\n Wit' super models bitin' on my ears like Mike Tyson on\n Fight night (Sho' ya right)\n The dumb and dumber, my cats pack thunder,\n And I got mo' wraps than Mumra, mean green\n Like that super hero with the lantern and ring,\n Then watch bootleg cable on a 60 inch screen\n Champagne, greens, in 3d, while bastards out catchin' V.D.'s\n See me easily givin' fools the finger like E.T.\n We be rougher than callous (y'all faggots)\n Sing a love ballad, then toss each other's salad\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Now welcome to the terrordome (fuckin maricones)\n Hoes in the ozone, cell phones and clones it's on\n Busta Rhymes said, \"There's only 2 years left\"\n So nowadays I'm playin' russian roulette wit' a tech (ha)\n Ghetto holocaust survivor, everyday,\n From the S.S stormtroopin P.D. in L.A.\n Tellin me bein' black on Saturday night is a felony\n If ya name ain't Michael Jordan or\n Bill Bellamy, you ass out (mash out)\n Cause a lot of white people is racist that's why I'm\n Bustin' nuts in their teenage daughters faces, Homie\n Cuz when it rains it pours, Got me wearin a six foot\n Condom, screamin' \"FUCK DA WORLD\"\n Makin' butterfly-ass niggas commit insecticide\n Half god - 50% zilla - illa - my alphabet slitha across\n Ouiji boards from the philla-gilla,\n Have dead niggas dancin around they graves like Thriller\n\n [Chorus]\n\n [Ras Kass]\n Yeah, what, the \"Waterproof\", Stu'B'Doo on the track\n Rhettmatic Beat Junkies on the scratch\n Listen, all y'all niggas be having too much to say man,\n Y'all niggas can eat a fat big dick\n If you're pissed off you dying with your dick in your hand, guaranteed\n All y'all bitch ass niggas\n Trying to play me on the Liberaci Versace tip\n I'ma catch you outside your mansion with a big four fifth\n Rasassination\n"},{"id":6307369,"name":"Conceited Bastard","trackName":"Conceited Bastard","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":254.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Verse 1:\n\nI created verb noun? (the most beautifullest shit)\nI make up like foundation now who you facing?\nThe waterproof emcee\nRas blessed the mic faster than ramadan in mach 3\nGet off my dick nigga\nAnd tell your bitch to come here\nAnd stick your dick in your eardrum and fuck what you heard (yeah)\nFa sheezy articulate drama\nMultiple lacerations between consecutive commas\n\nI like my ill nana wet, my martini dry\nWhippin' a bmw 540-i (drunk driving miss daisy)\nDevil in a blue dress packing heat\nWhile i'm doing doughnuts in the middle of the street\nMy middle east metaphors motivate religious wars\nJah-hah (plus some other middle east dialect)\nGet it popping like felicia and amhad rashad\nKeep my game face on like a goat\nSo stick yourself, pretty tony\n\nChorus:\nYou, you are, you conceited bastard (8x)\n\nVerse 2:\n\n(We still got some non-believers) so i'ma drop the bomb\nLike the one-armed wide reciever\nSee we be off the hook like (busy signal from phone)\nCriminally insana, my brain do the macarena\nAttack the varicose vanity who spin cancer\nRhetorical question, a hypothetical answer\nWouldn't swallow my tongue at a seizure\nSpeak my mind at my leisure\nLiving singe with more hoes than khadijah\nAnd when i'm bent, it's the circus without a tent\nClowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay rent\nGive a chicken six cents for gucci boots (hell no!)\nI rather mop the floor at a peep show\nWhat part of \"i'm the shit?\" don't you understand? (gooby bitch)\nYour favorite rapper is a ras kass fan\nSo, how many dykes do i flip on the daily?\nMany money, just give me plenty henny remmy\n\nChorus: 8x again\n\nVerse 3:\n\n(Well, that's true) damn, skippy\nI put that on everything i love\nLike when lucy was fucking ricky\nGot more stripes than adidas\nI'm cavy like fish fetus\nSee money snit and bullshit out-run cheetahs\nToo much perputrating, not enough lyricism\nIndo got you believing what your pen do\nFaking pugilism, the evil you claim you and your man do\n\nWith a gloc, when you least likely to red dot a 7-up can\nMy man, understand, i got connections\nSo much doe in my pocket, i give my girl a yeast infection\nI'm big-headed like babies with down syndrome\nIs you a playa from the himalyas with jerome-rome\nThis one girl tried to billy jean me\nBut i was wearing two rubbers\nSo name that nigga, whodini (laughing)\nControversal reversal, this is my planet\nYou just a reebok commercial\n\nChorus\n\nWhat, nigga, check, check, yeah\nUh, huh, yeah, yeah\nThis goes out to all the critics\nYou can suck the didick\nCheck this out for all the bitches to the radio\nDon't hate me though, you don't know me","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Conceited Bastard\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 254000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Verse 1:\n\n I created verb noun? (the most beautifullest shit)\n I make up like foundation now who you facing?\n The waterproof emcee\n Ras blessed the mic faster than ramadan in mach 3\n Get off my dick nigga\n And tell your bitch to come here\n And stick your dick in your eardrum and fuck what you heard (yeah)\n Fa sheezy articulate drama\n Multiple lacerations between consecutive commas\n\n I like my ill nana wet, my martini dry\n Whippin' a bmw 540-i (drunk driving miss daisy)\n Devil in a blue dress packing heat\n While i'm doing doughnuts in the middle of the street\n My middle east metaphors motivate religious wars\n Jah-hah (plus some other middle east dialect)\n Get it popping like felicia and amhad rashad\n Keep my game face on like a goat\n So stick yourself, pretty tony\n\n Chorus:\n You, you are, you conceited bastard (8x)\n\n Verse 2:\n\n (We still got some non-believers) so i'ma drop the bomb\n Like the one-armed wide reciever\n See we be off the hook like (busy signal from phone)\n Criminally insana, my brain do the macarena\n Attack the varicose vanity who spin cancer\n Rhetorical question, a hypothetical answer\n Wouldn't swallow my tongue at a seizure\n Speak my mind at my leisure\n Living singe with more hoes than khadijah\n And when i'm bent, it's the circus without a tent\n Clowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay rent\n Give a chicken six cents for gucci boots (hell no!)\n I rather mop the floor at a peep show\n What part of \"i'm the shit?\" don't you understand? (gooby bitch)\n Your favorite rapper is a ras kass fan\n So, how many dykes do i flip on the daily?\n Many money, just give me plenty henny remmy\n\n Chorus: 8x again\n\n Verse 3:\n\n (Well, that's true) damn, skippy\n I put that on everything i love\n Like when lucy was fucking ricky\n Got more stripes than adidas\n I'm cavy like fish fetus\n See money snit and bullshit out-run cheetahs\n Too much perputrating, not enough lyricism\n Indo got you believing what your pen do\n Faking pugilism, the evil you claim you and your man do\n\n With a gloc, when you least likely to red dot a 7-up can\n My man, understand, i got connections\n So much doe in my pocket, i give my girl a yeast infection\n I'm big-headed like babies with down syndrome\n Is you a playa from the himalyas with jerome-rome\n This one girl tried to billy jean me\n But i was wearing two rubbers\n So name that nigga, whodini (laughing)\n Controversal reversal, this is my planet\n You just a reebok commercial\n\n Chorus\n\n What, nigga, check, check, yeah\n Uh, huh, yeah, yeah\n This goes out to all the critics\n You can suck the didick\n Check this out for all the bitches to the radio\n Don't hate me though, you don't know me\n"},{"id":6307376,"name":"Interveiw With a Vampire","trackName":"Interveiw With a Vampire","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":416.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ras kass:\nYou want to talk to god? god never sleeps.\n\nRas kass: now what came first the chicken or the egg?\nGod: armageddon.\nRas kass: a arm a leg a leg a arm a head.\nHeadin in your direction.\nThe riddle was the answer to the question.\nBorn of the flesh what is perfection\n\nRas kass:\nInside my mother's womb doomed to return to the tomb.\nOr was it from the dead i was raised?\nAll too soon to pay, on judgement day,\nIs this beginning or the ending,\nDied sinning, still winning, still grinning.\nThis ending, verdict still pending, born pretending,\nThree-hundred billion men, women, and children.\nDeja vu, could be i'm dreaming,\nBut we all ask for divine reason,\nWhile still breathing, and until leaving.\nWho?, what?, when? where?, how?\nBut most of all why?\n\nWhy what?\n\nRas kass:\nDo we live just to die?\n\nThe book of haden.\nWay before the after god pitting heads.\nNo god for me, mathematically, in division.\nMy decision was all inventions.\nI need not mention infinite dementions.\nBut the human mind's flaw was limited comprehension.\nSo while you try to travle to mars and the stars,\nThe god manifests through the entire universe.\n\n>from the sun, moon, the earth.\nI created man in my image and the black man was first.\nThe scientific explanation, yea i made man out of dirt.\n\nRas kass:\nBut how can a man be first, when its the woman that's giving birth?\n\nListen, single-celled organisms.\nThe homosapien, the albanein\n\nRas kass:\nWhat's that?\n\nWhite people.\n\nRas kass:\nThey keep the world seperate and unequal.\n\nThe teach you, right is wrong, wrong is right.\nUp is down.\nTeaches king arthur's throne, is the planets that are round\n\nRas kass:\nCan we really time travel, and is there life in outer space?\n\nWait, you knew all this in the first place.\nYou tryin to get to god.\n\nRas kass:\nBut, i've fallen from your grace.\nA billion paths to take, but which one is truly straight?\n\nRas kass:\nCan you walk across water or rise from the dead?\nI heard he said he lived, and the son of man bled.\n\nIts a process, shit dont just happen, i create it.\nEverything you see, and shit you dont, son i made it, and waited.\nI'm the big bang theory and evolution.\nBeen there, done that, from revolution to prostitution.\nThe first and final solution.\nThe quaran, bible, and vedas, is only tools,\nDont be confused when the medula oblagada do\n\nRas kass:\nOh, so revelations is genesis.\n\nThree-sixty degrees are limitless.\n\nShit, my motherfuckin nemesis.\n\nRas kass:\nWho is you?\n\nSon, i thought you knew.\nWho else? lucifer, the lie bearer stupid, the devil himself.\nHe the creator, we all the creations, guess i'm eternal damnation.\nGot you bitches seaking your own salvation.\nWho taught you how to pray?\nYou read it in the book, look, your bear witness to amen ray.\nEvery day when you say amen, and then turn around and preach worshipin false\nGods,\nIs an unforgettable sin.\nYea the good book is like comic books,\nYou take 'em too literal,\nI tricked you in to believin' the power to reason,\nMakes you able to live infinitely, in the physical.\nGuess i'm the pawn com lyrical.\nBasically i tell true lies in general, the yin and the yang\nThe player with a trillion years of game.\n\nHe got you sellin your spiritual, for power, monery, and fame,\nI came out of tripple stage darkness, gave mortals my attributes.\nBut even you may be a mystery god like the lockhead,\nA used sign to prove or disprove my existence.\nTryin to align this, artificial intelligence, cloned in a space station,\nTryin to build the tower of babylon.\nBut you savages stake me, when i start erasin homosapiens.\nYou lookin for an angel with wings,\nI'm 'a bring young niggas with a ak, fuck a alien.\n\nRas kass:\nSo what you sayin is, you the one that created sin.\n\nWhat you call mother nature, was the nature of me.\nWhat you call evil, ultimately, was the force inside of me.\nMatter cant be created or destroyed it just changes shape.\nOne god, many people, and many faith.\nAnd this is how i wanted to do 'em.\n\nRas kass:\nWait, wait, hold up.\nFather tell me, who is god's son?\n\nI be the jesus to your buddah, the chrishna at your junah,\nThe big kahauna, jehova witnesses, suede pumas.\nZuese, pharoah, elohim, saturn, yaweh jiah,\nArastifa rah, allah, the most powerful.\nBut then, only adam and i.\nI'm the oceans, the trees, a bumble bee, and a glock.\nEarthquakes, how much money you ever take.\nThe reason behind every mistake mankind continually makes.\n\nRas kass:\nDid god create man, or did man need to create god?\n\nThe answer is both, cause how mortals look at god is odd.\n\nYou try to customize me to be comfortable.\nFor what you want to do, and how you choose to act.\nThe roman christians will tell you god aint black.\nBut to get something from nothing is physically impossible, thats a fact.\n\nBlack is the combination of all colors\n\nRas kass:\nWhite is the lack thereof.\n\nDarkness is beneath the ground, and in the skies up above.\nThe clue, is that the true illumination is me, not illuminati.\nCause i alone discriminate,\nAny who be believing they can rationalize our out reason me.\nWho created your creature, sutdent can never be greater than the teacher.\nWether its adam and eve, or atomic chemistry.\nI'm the one true source of all energy.\nWho will evantually destroy every enemy when i see fit.\nI cant blaspheme my own name so when goddamnit, so be it.\n\nThats called the wrath of god, but we gotta deal, i can chill\nFuck up the whole world, and in the end,\nHe'll still fulfill his plan, to return man to his original position.\n\nNigga gave me some hooks, and said i gets to go fishin.\n\nI gave man doiminion over the earth, to master the wealth.\nBut most of my children dont have dominion over theyself.\n\nThats where i come in.\nCall it original sin.\nWell, who really gives a flying fuck?\nI taught you how to blood suck, and ultimately self destruct.\n\nKnow the ledge, wise the dome, do the data.\nI'm the alpha.\n\nI'm the beta.\n\nRas kass:\nAnd i'm omega.\nTo be or not to be was man's question since conception.\nI think that for our end, was man's preception.\nBut the birth is the ressurection.\nThe son of god, or god's son, that lights our entire spectrum.\nYou got everlasting life, long as you got day and night.\nIllumination, not education, to bring the blind sight.\nR />and what you need to know is that you'll never know it all.\nI'm a lowercase g, son of the ever-living god.","syncedLyrics":"[00:04.30] You want to talk to God? God never sleeps\n[00:10.95] Now what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n[00:13.85] Armageddon, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head (ha)\n[00:16.65] Heading in your direction, the riddle was the answer to the question\n[00:20.45] Born of the flesh, what is perfection?\n[00:21.68] Inside my mother's womb, doomed to return to the tomb\n[00:25.02] Or was it from the dead I was raised?\n[00:26.82] All too soon to pay on judgment day, is this beginning or the ending?\n[00:31.23] Died sinning, still winning, still grinning\n[00:34.09] This ending, verdict still pending, born pretending\n[00:36.64] 300 billion men, women, and children (cringing)\n[00:38.90] Déjà vu could be I'm dreaming, but we all ask for divine reason\n[00:43.02] While still breathing and until leaving\n[00:44.73] Who? What? When? Where? How? But most of all why?\n[00:47.88] (Why what?) Do we live just to die?\n[00:49.88] The Book was written way before the apple got bitten\n[00:52.75] There is no God but me, mathematically, in division\n[00:55.69] My decision was all inventions\n[00:57.43] I need not mention infinite dimensions\n[00:59.57] But the human mind's flaw was limited comprehension\n[01:02.66] So while you try to travel to Mars and the stars\n[01:04.96] The God manifests through the entire universe\n[01:07.63] From the Sun, Moon, the Earth\n[01:09.45] I created man in my image and the Black man was first\n[01:12.24] For scientific explanation, yeah, I made man out of dirt\n[01:14.90] But how can a man be first, when it's the woman that's giving birth?\n[01:17.36] Listen, single-celled organisms to homo sapien to Albinism\n[01:20.57] What's that? White people\n[01:21.61] They keep the world separate and unequal\n[01:23.28] They teach you, right is wrong, wrong is right, up is down\n[01:25.85] Took the King off his throne, is the planet flat or round?\n[01:28.71] Can we really time travel, and is there life in outer space?\n[01:31.73] Wait, you knew all this in the first place\n[01:34.41] You trying to get to God, but I've fallen from your grace\n[01:37.27] A billion paths to take, but which one is truly straight?\n[01:40.09] And what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n[01:42.89] Pre-Adamites, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n[01:45.69] Heading in your direction, the riddle was the answer to the question\n[01:49.22] Born of the flesh, what is perfection?\n[01:51.13] Now what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n[01:54.18] Armageddon, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n[01:56.75] Can you walk across water or rise from the dead?\n[01:59.64] I heard he said he lived and the son of man bled\n[02:02.30] It's a process, shit don't just happen, I create it\n[02:05.39] Everything you see and shit you don't, son I made it and waited\n[02:08.42] I'm the big bang theory and evolution\n[02:10.88] Been there, done that from revolution to prostitution\n[02:13.55] The first and final solution\n[02:15.02] The Quran, Bible and Vedas is only tools\n[02:17.51] Don't be confused when the medulla oblongata duels\n[02:19.82] Oh, so revelations is Genesis\n[02:21.80] 360 degrees of limitless, shit, I'm my own fucking nemesis\n[02:24.97] Who is you? Chump, I thought you knew\n[02:26.85] Who else? Lucifer the light bearer stupid, the Devil himself\n[02:30.35] He the creator, we all the creations, guess I'm eternal damnation\n[02:33.81] Got you bitches seeking your own salvation\n[02:36.05] Who taught you how to pray?\n[02:37.90] 'Cause you read it in the Book? Look, your bear witness to Amen-Ra\n[02:41.58] Every day when you say Amen\n[02:43.36] And then turn around and preach worshipping false gods is an unforgivable sin\n[02:46.98] Yeah, the good Book is like comic books, you take 'em too literal\n[02:50.34] I tricked you in to believing that the power to reason\n[02:52.98] Makes you able to live infinitely in the physical\n[02:55.42] Guess I'm the pro and con miracle\n[02:57.65] Basically, I tell true lies in general, the yin and the yang\n[03:00.76] The player with a trillion years of game\n[03:02.81] He got you selling your spiritual for power, money and fame\n[03:05.65] I came out of triple stage darkness, gave mortals my attributes\n[03:09.25] But even you make me a mystery god like the lochness\n[03:12.03] Or use science to prove or disprove my existence\n[03:14.88] Tryna unlock this artificial intelligence cloned in a space station\n[03:18.84] Tryna build the Tower of Babylon, but you sadly mistaken\n[03:22.29] When I start erasing homo sapiens, you looking for angel with wings?\n[03:26.12] I'ma bring young niggas with a AK, fuck the aliens\n[03:28.74] So what you saying then? You the one who created sin\n[03:31.48] What you call Mother Nature is the nature of me\n[03:34.05] What you call evil ultimately was the force inside of me\n[03:37.03] Matter can't be created or destroyed, it just changes shape\n[03:40.13] One God, many people and many faiths\n[03:42.78] And this is how I wanted it done, wait, wait, hold up\n[03:45.76] Father, tell me, who is God's son?\n[03:48.15] And what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n[03:50.97] Pre-Adamites, Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n[03:53.72] Heading in your direction, the riddle was the answer to the question\n[03:57.21] Born of the flesh, what is perfection?\n[03:59.21] What came first, the chicken or the egg?\n[04:01.94] Armageddon, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n[04:04.66] I be the Jesus to your Buddha, the Krishna at your Jumah\n[04:07.72] The big kahuna, Jehovah's Witness in suede pumas\n[04:10.52] Zeus, Pharaoh, Elohim, Saturn, Yahweh, Jah\n[04:13.83] Rastafari, Allah, The Most High\n[04:16.11] But then, only that, I'm not\n[04:18.27] I'm the oceans, the trees, a bumble bee and a Glock\n[04:21.52] Earthquakes or how much money you'll ever take\n[04:23.84] The reason behind every mistake mankind continually makes\n[04:27.03] Did God create man or did man need to create God?\n[04:29.88] The answer is both 'cause how mortals look at God is odd\n[04:32.65] You try to customize me to be comfortable\n[04:34.99] For what you want to do and how you choose to act\n[04:37.54] The Pope and Christians will tell you God ain't Black\n[04:40.09] But to get something from nothing is physically impossible, that's a fact\n[04:43.67] Black is the combination of all colors, white is the lack thereof\n[04:46.58] Darkness is beneath the ground and in the skies up above\n[04:49.28] The clue is that the true illumination is me not Illuminati\n[04:53.60] 'Cause I alone discriminate and eliminate\n[04:55.73] Any who be believing they can rationalize our out-reason He\n[04:59.17] Who created your creature, the student can never be greater than the teacher\n[05:02.87] Whether it's Adam and Eve or atomic chemistry\n[05:05.87] I'm the one true source of all energy\n[05:07.71] Who will eventually destroy every enemy when I see fit\n[05:10.94] I can't blaspheme my own name so when Goddamnit, so be it\n[05:14.22] That's called the wrath of God, but we gotta deal, I can chill\n[05:17.38] Fuck up the whole world and in the end\n[05:19.32] He'll still fulfill his plan to restore man to his original position\n[05:22.75] Nigga gave me some hooks and said I gets to go fishin'\n[05:25.38] I gave man dominion over the Earth to master the wealth\n[05:28.23] But most of my children don't have dominion over theyself\n[05:31.09] That's where I come in, call it original sin\n[05:33.65] But, who really gives a flying fuck?\n[05:35.86] I taught you how to blood suck and ultimately self destruct\n[05:39.31] Know the ledge, wise the dome, do the data\n[05:42.29] I'm the alpha, I'm the beta and I'm omega\n[05:45.07] To be or not to be was man's question since conception\n[05:48.09] I think therefore I am was man's perception\n[05:50.11] But the birth is the resurrection\n[05:52.20] The son of God (Christ) or God's son that lights our entire spectrum\n[05:56.02] You got everlasting life as long as you got day and night\n[05:58.99] Illumination, not education to bring the blind sight\n[06:01.76] And what you need to know is that you'll never know it all\n[06:04.42] I'm a lowercase g, son of the (ever-living God)\n[06:08.73] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Interveiw With a Vampire\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 416000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You want to talk to God? God never sleeps\n start_ms: 4300\n end_ms: 10950\n- text: Now what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n start_ms: 10950\n end_ms: 13850\n- text: Armageddon, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head (ha)\n start_ms: 13850\n end_ms: 16650\n- text: Heading in your direction, the riddle was the answer to the question\n start_ms: 16650\n end_ms: 20450\n- text: Born of the flesh, what is perfection?\n start_ms: 20450\n end_ms: 21680\n- text: Inside my mother's womb, doomed to return to the tomb\n start_ms: 21680\n end_ms: 25020\n- text: Or was it from the dead I was raised?\n start_ms: 25020\n end_ms: 26820\n- text: All too soon to pay on judgment day, is this beginning or the ending?\n start_ms: 26820\n end_ms: 31230\n- text: Died sinning, still winning, still grinning\n start_ms: 31230\n end_ms: 34090\n- text: This ending, verdict still pending, born pretending\n start_ms: 34090\n end_ms: 36640\n- text: 300 billion men, women, and children (cringing)\n start_ms: 36640\n end_ms: 38900\n- text: Déjà vu could be I'm dreaming, but we all ask for divine reason\n start_ms: 38900\n end_ms: 43020\n- text: While still breathing and until leaving\n start_ms: 43020\n end_ms: 44730\n- text: Who? What? When? Where? How? But most of all why?\n start_ms: 44730\n end_ms: 47880\n- text: (Why what?) Do we live just to die?\n start_ms: 47880\n end_ms: 49880\n- text: The Book was written way before the apple got bitten\n start_ms: 49880\n end_ms: 52750\n- text: There is no God but me, mathematically, in division\n start_ms: 52750\n end_ms: 55690\n- text: My decision was all inventions\n start_ms: 55690\n end_ms: 57430\n- text: I need not mention infinite dimensions\n start_ms: 57430\n end_ms: 59570\n- text: But the human mind's flaw was limited comprehension\n start_ms: 59570\n end_ms: 62660\n- text: So while you try to travel to Mars and the stars\n start_ms: 62660\n end_ms: 64960\n- text: The God manifests through the entire universe\n start_ms: 64960\n end_ms: 67630\n- text: From the Sun, Moon, the Earth\n start_ms: 67630\n end_ms: 69450\n- text: I created man in my image and the Black man was first\n start_ms: 69450\n end_ms: 72240\n- text: For scientific explanation, yeah, I made man out of dirt\n start_ms: 72240\n end_ms: 74900\n- text: But how can a man be first, when it's the woman that's giving birth?\n start_ms: 74900\n end_ms: 77360\n- text: Listen, single-celled organisms to homo sapien to Albinism\n start_ms: 77360\n end_ms: 80570\n- text: What's that? White people\n start_ms: 80570\n end_ms: 81610\n- text: They keep the world separate and unequal\n start_ms: 81610\n end_ms: 83280\n- text: They teach you, right is wrong, wrong is right, up is down\n start_ms: 83280\n end_ms: 85850\n- text: Took the King off his throne, is the planet flat or round?\n start_ms: 85850\n end_ms: 88710\n- text: Can we really time travel, and is there life in outer space?\n start_ms: 88710\n end_ms: 91730\n- text: Wait, you knew all this in the first place\n start_ms: 91730\n end_ms: 94410\n- text: You trying to get to God, but I've fallen from your grace\n start_ms: 94410\n end_ms: 97270\n- text: A billion paths to take, but which one is truly straight?\n start_ms: 97270\n end_ms: 100090\n- text: And what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n start_ms: 100090\n end_ms: 102890\n- text: Pre-Adamites, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n start_ms: 102890\n end_ms: 105690\n- text: Heading in your direction, the riddle was the answer to the question\n start_ms: 105690\n end_ms: 109220\n- text: Born of the flesh, what is perfection?\n start_ms: 109220\n end_ms: 111130\n- text: Now what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n start_ms: 111130\n end_ms: 114180\n- text: Armageddon, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n start_ms: 114180\n end_ms: 116750\n- text: Can you walk across water or rise from the dead?\n start_ms: 116750\n end_ms: 119640\n- text: I heard he said he lived and the son of man bled\n start_ms: 119640\n end_ms: 122300\n- text: It's a process, shit don't just happen, I create it\n start_ms: 122300\n end_ms: 125390\n- text: Everything you see and shit you don't, son I made it and waited\n start_ms: 125390\n end_ms: 128420\n- text: I'm the big bang theory and evolution\n start_ms: 128420\n end_ms: 130880\n- text: Been there, done that from revolution to prostitution\n start_ms: 130880\n end_ms: 133550\n- text: The first and final solution\n start_ms: 133550\n end_ms: 135020\n- text: The Quran, Bible and Vedas is only tools\n start_ms: 135020\n end_ms: 137510\n- text: Don't be confused when the medulla oblongata duels\n start_ms: 137510\n end_ms: 139820\n- text: Oh, so revelations is Genesis\n start_ms: 139820\n end_ms: 141800\n- text: 360 degrees of limitless, shit, I'm my own fucking nemesis\n start_ms: 141800\n end_ms: 144970\n- text: Who is you? Chump, I thought you knew\n start_ms: 144970\n end_ms: 146850\n- text: Who else? Lucifer the light bearer stupid, the Devil himself\n start_ms: 146850\n end_ms: 150350\n- text: He the creator, we all the creations, guess I'm eternal damnation\n start_ms: 150350\n end_ms: 153810\n- text: Got you bitches seeking your own salvation\n start_ms: 153810\n end_ms: 156050\n- text: Who taught you how to pray?\n start_ms: 156050\n end_ms: 157900\n- text: '''Cause you read it in the Book? Look, your bear witness to Amen-Ra'\n start_ms: 157900\n end_ms: 161580\n- text: Every day when you say Amen\n start_ms: 161580\n end_ms: 163360\n- text: And then turn around and preach worshipping false gods is an unforgivable sin\n start_ms: 163360\n end_ms: 166980\n- text: Yeah, the good Book is like comic books, you take 'em too literal\n start_ms: 166980\n end_ms: 170340\n- text: I tricked you in to believing that the power to reason\n start_ms: 170340\n end_ms: 172980\n- text: Makes you able to live infinitely in the physical\n start_ms: 172980\n end_ms: 175420\n- text: Guess I'm the pro and con miracle\n start_ms: 175420\n end_ms: 177650\n- text: Basically, I tell true lies in general, the yin and the yang\n start_ms: 177650\n end_ms: 180760\n- text: The player with a trillion years of game\n start_ms: 180760\n end_ms: 182810\n- text: He got you selling your spiritual for power, money and fame\n start_ms: 182810\n end_ms: 185650\n- text: I came out of triple stage darkness, gave mortals my attributes\n start_ms: 185650\n end_ms: 189250\n- text: But even you make me a mystery god like the lochness\n start_ms: 189250\n end_ms: 192030\n- text: Or use science to prove or disprove my existence\n start_ms: 192030\n end_ms: 194880\n- text: Tryna unlock this artificial intelligence cloned in a space station\n start_ms: 194880\n end_ms: 198840\n- text: Tryna build the Tower of Babylon, but you sadly mistaken\n start_ms: 198840\n end_ms: 202290\n- text: When I start erasing homo sapiens, you looking for angel with wings?\n start_ms: 202290\n end_ms: 206120\n- text: I'ma bring young niggas with a AK, fuck the aliens\n start_ms: 206120\n end_ms: 208740\n- text: So what you saying then? You the one who created sin\n start_ms: 208740\n end_ms: 211480\n- text: What you call Mother Nature is the nature of me\n start_ms: 211480\n end_ms: 214050\n- text: What you call evil ultimately was the force inside of me\n start_ms: 214050\n end_ms: 217030\n- text: Matter can't be created or destroyed, it just changes shape\n start_ms: 217030\n end_ms: 220130\n- text: One God, many people and many faiths\n start_ms: 220130\n end_ms: 222780\n- text: And this is how I wanted it done, wait, wait, hold up\n start_ms: 222780\n end_ms: 225760\n- text: Father, tell me, who is God's son?\n start_ms: 225760\n end_ms: 228150\n- text: And what came first, the chicken or the egg?\n start_ms: 228150\n end_ms: 230970\n- text: Pre-Adamites, Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n start_ms: 230970\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Heading in your direction, the riddle was the answer to the question\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 237210\n- text: Born of the flesh, what is perfection?\n start_ms: 237210\n end_ms: 239210\n- text: What came first, the chicken or the egg?\n start_ms: 239210\n end_ms: 241940\n- text: Armageddon, the Arm a Leg a Leg a Arm a Head\n start_ms: 241940\n end_ms: 244660\n- text: I be the Jesus to your Buddha, the Krishna at your Jumah\n start_ms: 244660\n end_ms: 247720\n- text: The big kahuna, Jehovah's Witness in suede pumas\n start_ms: 247720\n end_ms: 250520\n- text: Zeus, Pharaoh, Elohim, Saturn, Yahweh, Jah\n start_ms: 250520\n end_ms: 253830\n- text: Rastafari, Allah, The Most High\n start_ms: 253830\n end_ms: 256110\n- text: But then, only that, I'm not\n start_ms: 256110\n end_ms: 258270\n- text: I'm the oceans, the trees, a bumble bee and a Glock\n start_ms: 258270\n end_ms: 261520\n- text: Earthquakes or how much money you'll ever take\n start_ms: 261520\n end_ms: 263840\n- text: The reason behind every mistake mankind continually makes\n start_ms: 263840\n end_ms: 267030\n- text: Did God create man or did man need to create God?\n start_ms: 267030\n end_ms: 269880\n- text: The answer is both 'cause how mortals look at God is odd\n start_ms: 269880\n end_ms: 272650\n- text: You try to customize me to be comfortable\n start_ms: 272650\n end_ms: 274990\n- text: For what you want to do and how you choose to act\n start_ms: 274990\n end_ms: 277540\n- text: The Pope and Christians will tell you God ain't Black\n start_ms: 277540\n end_ms: 280090\n- text: But to get something from nothing is physically impossible, that's a fact\n start_ms: 280090\n end_ms: 283670\n- text: Black is the combination of all colors, white is the lack thereof\n start_ms: 283670\n end_ms: 286580\n- text: Darkness is beneath the ground and in the skies up above\n start_ms: 286580\n end_ms: 289280\n- text: The clue is that the true illumination is me not Illuminati\n start_ms: 289280\n end_ms: 293600\n- text: '''Cause I alone discriminate and eliminate'\n start_ms: 293600\n end_ms: 295730\n- text: Any who be believing they can rationalize our out-reason He\n start_ms: 295730\n end_ms: 299170\n- text: Who created your creature, the student can never be greater than the teacher\n start_ms: 299170\n end_ms: 302870\n- text: Whether it's Adam and Eve or atomic chemistry\n start_ms: 302870\n end_ms: 305870\n- text: I'm the one true source of all energy\n start_ms: 305870\n end_ms: 307710\n- text: Who will eventually destroy every enemy when I see fit\n start_ms: 307710\n end_ms: 310940\n- text: I can't blaspheme my own name so when Goddamnit, so be it\n start_ms: 310940\n end_ms: 314220\n- text: That's called the wrath of God, but we gotta deal, I can chill\n start_ms: 314220\n end_ms: 317380\n- text: Fuck up the whole world and in the end\n start_ms: 317380\n end_ms: 319320\n- text: He'll still fulfill his plan to restore man to his original position\n start_ms: 319320\n end_ms: 322750\n- text: Nigga gave me some hooks and said I gets to go fishin'\n start_ms: 322750\n end_ms: 325380\n- text: I gave man dominion over the Earth to master the wealth\n start_ms: 325380\n end_ms: 328230\n- text: But most of my children don't have dominion over theyself\n start_ms: 328230\n end_ms: 331090\n- text: That's where I come in, call it original sin\n start_ms: 331090\n end_ms: 333650\n- text: But, who really gives a flying fuck?\n start_ms: 333650\n end_ms: 335860\n- text: I taught you how to blood suck and ultimately self destruct\n start_ms: 335860\n end_ms: 339310\n- text: Know the ledge, wise the dome, do the data\n start_ms: 339310\n end_ms: 342290\n- text: I'm the alpha, I'm the beta and I'm omega\n start_ms: 342290\n end_ms: 345070\n- text: To be or not to be was man's question since conception\n start_ms: 345070\n end_ms: 348090\n- text: I think therefore I am was man's perception\n start_ms: 348090\n end_ms: 350110\n- text: But the birth is the resurrection\n start_ms: 350110\n end_ms: 352200\n- text: The son of God (Christ) or God's son that lights our entire spectrum\n start_ms: 352200\n end_ms: 356020\n- text: You got everlasting life as long as you got day and night\n start_ms: 356020\n end_ms: 358990\n- text: Illumination, not education to bring the blind sight\n start_ms: 358990\n end_ms: 361760\n- text: And what you need to know is that you'll never know it all\n start_ms: 361760\n end_ms: 364420\n- text: I'm a lowercase g, son of the (ever-living God)\n start_ms: 364420\n end_ms: 368730\nplain: |-\n Ras kass:\n You want to talk to god? god never sleeps.\n\n Ras kass: now what came first the chicken or the egg?\n God: armageddon.\n Ras kass: a arm a leg a leg a arm a head.\n Headin in your direction.\n The riddle was the answer to the question.\n Born of the flesh what is perfection\n\n Ras kass:\n Inside my mother's womb doomed to return to the tomb.\n Or was it from the dead i was raised?\n All too soon to pay, on judgement day,\n Is this beginning or the ending,\n Died sinning, still winning, still grinning.\n This ending, verdict still pending, born pretending,\n Three-hundred billion men, women, and children.\n Deja vu, could be i'm dreaming,\n But we all ask for divine reason,\n While still breathing, and until leaving.\n Who?, what?, when? where?, how?\n But most of all why?\n\n Why what?\n\n Ras kass:\n Do we live just to die?\n\n The book of haden.\n Way before the after god pitting heads.\n No god for me, mathematically, in division.\n My decision was all inventions.\n I need not mention infinite dementions.\n But the human mind's flaw was limited comprehension.\n So while you try to travle to mars and the stars,\n The god manifests through the entire universe.\n\n >from the sun, moon, the earth.\n I created man in my image and the black man was first.\n The scientific explanation, yea i made man out of dirt.\n\n Ras kass:\n But how can a man be first, when its the woman that's giving birth?\n\n Listen, single-celled organisms.\n The homosapien, the albanein\n\n Ras kass:\n What's that?\n\n White people.\n\n Ras kass:\n They keep the world seperate and unequal.\n\n The teach you, right is wrong, wrong is right.\n Up is down.\n Teaches king arthur's throne, is the planets that are round\n\n Ras kass:\n Can we really time travel, and is there life in outer space?\n\n Wait, you knew all this in the first place.\n You tryin to get to god.\n\n Ras kass:\n But, i've fallen from your grace.\n A billion paths to take, but which one is truly straight?\n\n Ras kass:\n Can you walk across water or rise from the dead?\n I heard he said he lived, and the son of man bled.\n\n Its a process, shit dont just happen, i create it.\n Everything you see, and shit you dont, son i made it, and waited.\n I'm the big bang theory and evolution.\n Been there, done that, from revolution to prostitution.\n The first and final solution.\n The quaran, bible, and vedas, is only tools,\n Dont be confused when the medula oblagada do\n\n Ras kass:\n Oh, so revelations is genesis.\n\n Three-sixty degrees are limitless.\n\n Shit, my motherfuckin nemesis.\n\n Ras kass:\n Who is you?\n\n Son, i thought you knew.\n Who else? lucifer, the lie bearer stupid, the devil himself.\n He the creator, we all the creations, guess i'm eternal damnation.\n Got you bitches seaking your own salvation.\n Who taught you how to pray?\n You read it in the book, look, your bear witness to amen ray.\n Every day when you say amen, and then turn around and preach worshipin false\n Gods,\n Is an unforgettable sin.\n Yea the good book is like comic books,\n You take 'em too literal,\n I tricked you in to believin' the power to reason,\n Makes you able to live infinitely, in the physical.\n Guess i'm the pawn com lyrical.\n Basically i tell true lies in general, the yin and the yang\n The player with a trillion years of game.\n\n He got you sellin your spiritual, for power, monery, and fame,\n I came out of tripple stage darkness, gave mortals my attributes.\n But even you may be a mystery god like the lockhead,\n A used sign to prove or disprove my existence.\n Tryin to align this, artificial intelligence, cloned in a space station,\n Tryin to build the tower of babylon.\n But you savages stake me, when i start erasin homosapiens.\n You lookin for an angel with wings,\n I'm 'a bring young niggas with a ak, fuck a alien.\n\n Ras kass:\n So what you sayin is, you the one that created sin.\n\n What you call mother nature, was the nature of me.\n What you call evil, ultimately, was the force inside of me.\n Matter cant be created or destroyed it just changes shape.\n One god, many people, and many faith.\n And this is how i wanted to do 'em.\n\n Ras kass:\n Wait, wait, hold up.\n Father tell me, who is god's son?\n\n I be the jesus to your buddah, the chrishna at your junah,\n The big kahauna, jehova witnesses, suede pumas.\n Zuese, pharoah, elohim, saturn, yaweh jiah,\n Arastifa rah, allah, the most powerful.\n But then, only adam and i.\n I'm the oceans, the trees, a bumble bee, and a glock.\n Earthquakes, how much money you ever take.\n The reason behind every mistake mankind continually makes.\n\n Ras kass:\n Did god create man, or did man need to create god?\n\n The answer is both, cause how mortals look at god is odd.\n\n You try to customize me to be comfortable.\n For what you want to do, and how you choose to act.\n The roman christians will tell you god aint black.\n But to get something from nothing is physically impossible, thats a fact.\n\n Black is the combination of all colors\n\n Ras kass:\n White is the lack thereof.\n\n Darkness is beneath the ground, and in the skies up above.\n The clue, is that the true illumination is me, not illuminati.\n Cause i alone discriminate,\n Any who be believing they can rationalize our out reason me.\n Who created your creature, sutdent can never be greater than the teacher.\n Wether its adam and eve, or atomic chemistry.\n I'm the one true source of all energy.\n Who will evantually destroy every enemy when i see fit.\n I cant blaspheme my own name so when goddamnit, so be it.\n\n Thats called the wrath of god, but we gotta deal, i can chill\n Fuck up the whole world, and in the end,\n He'll still fulfill his plan, to return man to his original position.\n\n Nigga gave me some hooks, and said i gets to go fishin.\n\n I gave man doiminion over the earth, to master the wealth.\n But most of my children dont have dominion over theyself.\n\n Thats where i come in.\n Call it original sin.\n Well, who really gives a flying fuck?\n I taught you how to blood suck, and ultimately self destruct.\n\n Know the ledge, wise the dome, do the data.\n I'm the alpha.\n\n I'm the beta.\n\n Ras kass:\n And i'm omega.\n To be or not to be was man's question since conception.\n I think that for our end, was man's preception.\n But the birth is the ressurection.\n The son of god, or god's son, that lights our entire spectrum.\n You got everlasting life, long as you got day and night.\n Illumination, not education, to bring the blind sight.\n R />and what you need to know is that you'll never know it all.\n I'm a lowercase g, son of the ever-living god.\n"},{"id":6307388,"name":"Get At Me","trackName":"Get At Me","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":251.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Damn nigga, what's wrong wit you\n\n[Ras Kass]\n\n(I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny\nSippin' tanquery with o.j.\nSportin' bruno mali\nNot guilty but filthy\nSmellin' like Chritstian Dior\nInfiniti QX4, gimme yours\nOf course, sinnin\nSwimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women\nLove to love ya, like Timbaland\nWhen in the endin\nLike three strikes in the ninth inning\nI rock satin boxers, cotton socks and denim\nThe game he kick, special teams couldn't return\nGot you wild like a texturizer\nBurn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser\nSosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser\nAnd got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats\nWho keep their hair and nails done\nAnd they legs waxed\nI peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie\nLove a friend, my sentiments exactly\nGet at me\n\nChorus [Karida Johnson]\n\nI like your style, can we kick it, oh wow\nBaby, so you can get at me\n\n[Ras Kass] I got no game, It's just the women Understand my story\n\nI got a man, but we can still be friends\nSo you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby\n\nVerse Two\n\nSome things make you happy just to be alive\nLike seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe\nDrive, like hitting two-twenty-five\nIn the pin with no spot\nI survive drama and then know when to lick shots\nKeep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch\nNever brought sand to the beach\nCause these streets is baywatch (true)\nYou know how we do\nSatin lingerie I see through\nNow she barely even kiss you\nLeaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo)\nYour chicken-head wife was poultry\nUndersexed and sultry\nThat's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery\nI swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare\nChalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air\nHer momma shoulda named her Casino\nShe got the liquor in the front\nPoke her in the rear\n\nChorus\n\nVerse Three\n\nYou know my steez though\nDark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it\nJust without the Master P dough\nBut see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin\nMake no mistake\nYou can't get a slice if you don't bake the cake\nTo reverse trick\nMy silly ex-bitch transport brick\nFor twenty percent - commission\nShe dressed up with no where to go\nWhile I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe\nFor show, at my girl party, flowin\nBut I think she caught me like a nazi\nNow I'm servin', she got me under surveilence\nLike John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low\nActin' straight Illuminati\nDon't get mad, I'm only being honest\nIt's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras)\nYou promise\nThen freak me, slightly below the hips\nAnd blow me a kiss with your pussy lips\nGet at me\n\nChorus\n\nGet at me","syncedLyrics":"[00:11.70] Damn nigga, what's wrong wit you\n[00:18.15] [Ras Kass]\n[00:20.81] (I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny\n[00:22.67] Sippin' tanquery with o.j.\n[00:24.41] Sportin' bruno mali\n[00:25.36] Not guilty but filthy\n[00:26.28] Smellin' like Chritstian Dior\n[00:28.09] Infiniti QX4, gimme yours\n[00:30.77] Of course, sinnin\n[00:32.50] Swimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women\n[00:34.33] Love to love ya, like Timbaland\n[00:36.11] When in the endin\n[00:37.01] Like three strikes in the ninth inning\n[00:38.88] I rock satin boxers, cotton socks and denim\n[00:42.50] The game he kick, special teams couldn't return\n[00:45.25] Got you wild like a texturizer\n[00:47.05] Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser\n[00:49.75] Sosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser\n[00:52.45] And got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats\n[00:54.28] Who keep their hair and nails done\n[00:56.02] And they legs waxed\n[00:56.92] I peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie\n[00:58.73] Love a friend, my sentiments exactly\n[01:01.48] Get at me\n[01:02.33] Chorus [Karida Johnson]\n[01:03.20] I like your style, can we kick it, oh wow\n[01:08.72] Baby, so you can get at me\n[01:10.53] [Ras Kass] I got no game, It's just the women Understand my story\n[01:12.39] I got a man, but we can still be friends\n[01:17.77] So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby\n[01:23.15] Verse Two\n[01:24.09] Some things make you happy just to be alive\n[01:25.93] Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe\n[01:28.67] Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five\n[01:30.46] In the pin with no spot\n[01:31.35] I survive drama and then know when to lick shots\n[01:34.03] Keep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch\n[01:37.65] Never brought sand to the beach\n[01:38.54] Cause these streets is baywatch (true)\n[01:41.20] You know how we do\n[01:42.16] Satin lingerie I see through\n[01:43.97] Now she barely even kiss you\n[01:44.81] Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo)\n[01:49.48] Your chicken-head wife was poultry\n[01:50.35] Undersexed and sultry\n[01:52.11] That's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery\n[01:54.83] I swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare\n[01:57.51] Chalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air\n[02:00.27] Her momma shoulda named her Casino\n[02:02.09] She got the liquor in the front\n[02:03.89] Poke her in the rear\n[02:05.09] Chorus\n[02:25.92] Verse Three\n[02:26.83] You know my steez though\n[02:27.78] Dark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it\n[02:29.55] Just without the Master P dough\n[02:31.34] But see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin\n[02:34.00] Make no mistake\n[02:34.99] You can't get a slice if you don't bake the cake\n[02:37.62] To reverse trick\n[02:38.58] My silly ex-bitch transport brick\n[02:40.35] For twenty percent - commission\n[02:43.02] She dressed up with no where to go\n[02:44.81] While I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe\n[02:46.62] For show, at my girl party, flowin\n[02:49.49] But I think she caught me like a nazi\n[02:52.17] Now I'm servin', she got me under surveilence\n[02:53.95] Like John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low\n[02:55.74] Actin' straight Illuminati\n[02:57.51] Don't get mad, I'm only being honest\n[03:00.25] It's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras)\n[03:02.00] You promise\n[03:03.88] Then freak me, slightly below the hips\n[03:04.76] And blow me a kiss with your pussy lips\n[03:07.48] Get at me\n[03:08.34] Chorus\n[03:29.18] Get at me\n[03:31.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Get At Me\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 251000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Damn nigga, what's wrong wit you\n start_ms: 11700\n end_ms: 18150\n- text: '[Ras Kass]'\n start_ms: 18150\n end_ms: 20810\n- text: (I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny\n start_ms: 20810\n end_ms: 22670\n- text: Sippin' tanquery with o.j.\n start_ms: 22670\n end_ms: 24410\n- text: Sportin' bruno mali\n start_ms: 24410\n end_ms: 25360\n- text: Not guilty but filthy\n start_ms: 25360\n end_ms: 26280\n- text: Smellin' like Chritstian Dior\n start_ms: 26280\n end_ms: 28090\n- text: Infiniti QX4, gimme yours\n start_ms: 28090\n end_ms: 30770\n- text: Of course, sinnin\n start_ms: 30770\n end_ms: 32500\n- text: Swimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women\n start_ms: 32500\n end_ms: 34330\n- text: Love to love ya, like Timbaland\n start_ms: 34330\n end_ms: 36110\n- text: When in the endin\n start_ms: 36110\n end_ms: 37010\n- text: Like three strikes in the ninth inning\n start_ms: 37010\n end_ms: 38880\n- text: I rock satin boxers, cotton socks and denim\n start_ms: 38880\n end_ms: 42500\n- text: The game he kick, special teams couldn't return\n start_ms: 42500\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Got you wild like a texturizer\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47050\n- text: Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser\n start_ms: 47050\n end_ms: 49750\n- text: Sosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser\n start_ms: 49750\n end_ms: 52450\n- text: And got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats\n start_ms: 52450\n end_ms: 54280\n- text: Who keep their hair and nails done\n start_ms: 54280\n end_ms: 56020\n- text: And they legs waxed\n start_ms: 56020\n end_ms: 56920\n- text: I peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie\n start_ms: 56920\n end_ms: 58730\n- text: Love a friend, my sentiments exactly\n start_ms: 58730\n end_ms: 61480\n- text: Get at me\n start_ms: 61480\n end_ms: 62330\n- text: Chorus [Karida Johnson]\n start_ms: 62330\n end_ms: 63200\n- text: I like your style, can we kick it, oh wow\n start_ms: 63200\n end_ms: 68720\n- text: Baby, so you can get at me\n start_ms: 68720\n end_ms: 70530\n- text: '[Ras Kass] I got no game, It''s just the women Understand my story'\n start_ms: 70530\n end_ms: 72390\n- text: I got a man, but we can still be friends\n start_ms: 72390\n end_ms: 77770\n- text: So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby\n start_ms: 77770\n end_ms: 83150\n- text: Verse Two\n start_ms: 83150\n end_ms: 84090\n- text: Some things make you happy just to be alive\n start_ms: 84090\n end_ms: 85930\n- text: Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe\n start_ms: 85930\n end_ms: 88670\n- text: Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five\n start_ms: 88670\n end_ms: 90460\n- text: In the pin with no spot\n start_ms: 90460\n end_ms: 91350\n- text: I survive drama and then know when to lick shots\n start_ms: 91350\n end_ms: 94030\n- text: Keep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch\n start_ms: 94030\n end_ms: 97650\n- text: Never brought sand to the beach\n start_ms: 97650\n end_ms: 98540\n- text: Cause these streets is baywatch (true)\n start_ms: 98540\n end_ms: 101200\n- text: You know how we do\n start_ms: 101200\n end_ms: 102160\n- text: Satin lingerie I see through\n start_ms: 102160\n end_ms: 103970\n- text: Now she barely even kiss you\n start_ms: 103970\n end_ms: 104810\n- text: Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo)\n start_ms: 104810\n end_ms: 109480\n- text: Your chicken-head wife was poultry\n start_ms: 109480\n end_ms: 110350\n- text: Undersexed and sultry\n start_ms: 110350\n end_ms: 112110\n- text: That's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery\n start_ms: 112110\n end_ms: 114830\n- text: I swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare\n start_ms: 114830\n end_ms: 117510\n- text: Chalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air\n start_ms: 117510\n end_ms: 120270\n- text: Her momma shoulda named her Casino\n start_ms: 120270\n end_ms: 122090\n- text: She got the liquor in the front\n start_ms: 122090\n end_ms: 123890\n- text: Poke her in the rear\n start_ms: 123890\n end_ms: 125090\n- text: Chorus\n start_ms: 125090\n end_ms: 145920\n- text: Verse Three\n start_ms: 145920\n end_ms: 146830\n- text: You know my steez though\n start_ms: 146830\n end_ms: 147780\n- text: Dark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it\n start_ms: 147780\n end_ms: 149550\n- text: Just without the Master P dough\n start_ms: 149550\n end_ms: 151340\n- text: But see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin\n start_ms: 151340\n end_ms: 154000\n- text: Make no mistake\n start_ms: 154000\n end_ms: 154990\n- text: You can't get a slice if you don't bake the cake\n start_ms: 154990\n end_ms: 157620\n- text: To reverse trick\n start_ms: 157620\n end_ms: 158580\n- text: My silly ex-bitch transport brick\n start_ms: 158580\n end_ms: 160350\n- text: For twenty percent - commission\n start_ms: 160350\n end_ms: 163020\n- text: She dressed up with no where to go\n start_ms: 163020\n end_ms: 164810\n- text: While I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe\n start_ms: 164810\n end_ms: 166620\n- text: For show, at my girl party, flowin\n start_ms: 166620\n end_ms: 169490\n- text: But I think she caught me like a nazi\n start_ms: 169490\n end_ms: 172170\n- text: Now I'm servin', she got me under surveilence\n start_ms: 172170\n end_ms: 173950\n- text: Like John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low\n start_ms: 173950\n end_ms: 175740\n- text: Actin' straight Illuminati\n start_ms: 175740\n end_ms: 177510\n- text: Don't get mad, I'm only being honest\n start_ms: 177510\n end_ms: 180250\n- text: It's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras)\n start_ms: 180250\n end_ms: 182000\n- text: You promise\n start_ms: 182000\n end_ms: 183880\n- text: Then freak me, slightly below the hips\n start_ms: 183880\n end_ms: 184760\n- text: And blow me a kiss with your pussy lips\n start_ms: 184760\n end_ms: 187480\n- text: Get at me\n start_ms: 187480\n end_ms: 188340\n- text: Chorus\n start_ms: 188340\n end_ms: 209180\n- text: Get at me\n start_ms: 209180\n end_ms: 211020\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211020\nplain: |-\n Damn nigga, what's wrong wit you\n\n [Ras Kass]\n\n (I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny\n Sippin' tanquery with o.j.\n Sportin' bruno mali\n Not guilty but filthy\n Smellin' like Chritstian Dior\n Infiniti QX4, gimme yours\n Of course, sinnin\n Swimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women\n Love to love ya, like Timbaland\n When in the endin\n Like three strikes in the ninth inning\n I rock satin boxers, cotton socks and denim\n The game he kick, special teams couldn't return\n Got you wild like a texturizer\n Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser\n Sosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser\n And got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats\n Who keep their hair and nails done\n And they legs waxed\n I peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie\n Love a friend, my sentiments exactly\n Get at me\n\n Chorus [Karida Johnson]\n\n I like your style, can we kick it, oh wow\n Baby, so you can get at me\n\n [Ras Kass] I got no game, It's just the women Understand my story\n\n I got a man, but we can still be friends\n So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby\n\n Verse Two\n\n Some things make you happy just to be alive\n Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe\n Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five\n In the pin with no spot\n I survive drama and then know when to lick shots\n Keep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch\n Never brought sand to the beach\n Cause these streets is baywatch (true)\n You know how we do\n Satin lingerie I see through\n Now she barely even kiss you\n Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo)\n Your chicken-head wife was poultry\n Undersexed and sultry\n That's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery\n I swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare\n Chalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air\n Her momma shoulda named her Casino\n She got the liquor in the front\n Poke her in the rear\n\n Chorus\n\n Verse Three\n\n You know my steez though\n Dark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it\n Just without the Master P dough\n But see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin\n Make no mistake\n You can't get a slice if you don't bake the cake\n To reverse trick\n My silly ex-bitch transport brick\n For twenty percent - commission\n She dressed up with no where to go\n While I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe\n For show, at my girl party, flowin\n But I think she caught me like a nazi\n Now I'm servin', she got me under surveilence\n Like John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low\n Actin' straight Illuminati\n Don't get mad, I'm only being honest\n It's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras)\n You promise\n Then freak me, slightly below the hips\n And blow me a kiss with your pussy lips\n Get at me\n\n Chorus\n\n Get at me\n"},{"id":6307363,"name":"Ghetto Fabulous","trackName":"Ghetto Fabulous","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ras Kass\n\nOnce again, we take over cash\nRas Kass, Dr. Dre and Mack 10 connected.\nWe ghetto fabulous baby.\nThe best food, drink and pussy that money can buy.\n\nOne: Ras Kass\n\nEvery day of my life is off the ringer\nThat's guaranteed, like a fistfight on Jerry Springer\nI got the hottest flow to hit the street since lava\nSo holla, we all hustle for dollar dollars\nFrom Sac to Houston, New Orleans to D.C.\nWe drinkin' V-S-O-P (?) the beats beep\nBangin, catch me with a dimepiece next to me\nMy Body all over Your Body like LSG\nNeighborhood celeb with the keys to my city like the mayor\nRookies askin us how to be a playa\nGet in where you fit in, and never get your ghetto pass revoked\nNo matter how much money you make\nStay true to the game loc, guest list terror clothes\nIn jeans and tennis shoes, breakin your strict dress codes\nSpit lyrical bricks, thirteen deep\nSo I can be richer than Master P sellin 'Ghetto D'\n\nMack 10\n\nWe Ghetto, fabulous\nMoney make the world go round so let's handle this\nGhetto, fabulous\nBroadcastin live from Los Angeles\nWe ghetto, fabulous\nMoney make the world go round so let's handle this\nGhetto, fabulous\nBroadcastin live from Los Angeles\n\nTwo: Dr. Dre\n\nYou ain't heard of me, you ain't listenin hard enough\nStarted in Compton servin from a ice cream truck\nNow ten years later whippin a custom Navigator\nSteppin on your toes playa, stuffin up your alligators\nI'm ghetto, like Newport cigarettes, feel me\nBoom bap and slap that ass silly\nThis is for the full time students slash part time strippers\nAnd young niggaz, clockin at least five figures\nSome of us pro atheletes, some of us rap over fat beats\nSome of us hustle in the streets\nTwenty deep in Club Nikki's so you know we gots to mingle\nTrickin' (?) off a pocket full of singles, huh\nAnd it's all bueno, musical mafia like Frank Sinatra\nPop a thirteen shot glock to make you Go See the Doctor\nAin't nuttin nice\n>From hood to hood, love livin the lavish life\n\n()\n\nThree: Ras Kass\n\nNigga Stu-B-Doo in the GS, three ooh ooh\nPlayin number two Tekken, zero to sixty\nIn six point seven seconds *tires screech* hangin out the window\nActin up, chickenheads like \"You doin fo' months!\"\nFlexin the Rolex oyster perpetual, thirty-five diamonds\nAcross the face, still eatin out foam cups and paper plates\nWe don't call it playa hatin in the nine-eight, it's P.I.\nThat's pass intereference, automatic first down\nWant Juice like Tupac, then Obey Your Thirst clown\nBe in the PJ's in NY, rockin DK\nMix EJ with OJ, OK, we say\n\"L.A. niggaz got crazy came\nLike John Elway got a superbowl ring\"\nThe homies down for whatever, we stack the chedda\nSwiss bank accounts, and mo' mozzarella fella\n\n()\n\nUgh! And it don't stop!\n\nHAHA, WESTSIDE RIDERS BABY, HAHA!\n\n*Fade out*","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Ghetto Fabulous\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Ras Kass\n\n Once again, we take over cash\n Ras Kass, Dr. Dre and Mack 10 connected.\n We ghetto fabulous baby.\n The best food, drink and pussy that money can buy.\n\n One: Ras Kass\n\n Every day of my life is off the ringer\n That's guaranteed, like a fistfight on Jerry Springer\n I got the hottest flow to hit the street since lava\n So holla, we all hustle for dollar dollars\n From Sac to Houston, New Orleans to D.C.\n We drinkin' V-S-O-P (?) the beats beep\n Bangin, catch me with a dimepiece next to me\n My Body all over Your Body like LSG\n Neighborhood celeb with the keys to my city like the mayor\n Rookies askin us how to be a playa\n Get in where you fit in, and never get your ghetto pass revoked\n No matter how much money you make\n Stay true to the game loc, guest list terror clothes\n In jeans and tennis shoes, breakin your strict dress codes\n Spit lyrical bricks, thirteen deep\n So I can be richer than Master P sellin 'Ghetto D'\n\n Mack 10\n\n We Ghetto, fabulous\n Money make the world go round so let's handle this\n Ghetto, fabulous\n Broadcastin live from Los Angeles\n We ghetto, fabulous\n Money make the world go round so let's handle this\n Ghetto, fabulous\n Broadcastin live from Los Angeles\n\n Two: Dr. Dre\n\n You ain't heard of me, you ain't listenin hard enough\n Started in Compton servin from a ice cream truck\n Now ten years later whippin a custom Navigator\n Steppin on your toes playa, stuffin up your alligators\n I'm ghetto, like Newport cigarettes, feel me\n Boom bap and slap that ass silly\n This is for the full time students slash part time strippers\n And young niggaz, clockin at least five figures\n Some of us pro atheletes, some of us rap over fat beats\n Some of us hustle in the streets\n Twenty deep in Club Nikki's so you know we gots to mingle\n Trickin' (?) off a pocket full of singles, huh\n And it's all bueno, musical mafia like Frank Sinatra\n Pop a thirteen shot glock to make you Go See the Doctor\n Ain't nuttin nice\n >From hood to hood, love livin the lavish life\n\n ()\n\n Three: Ras Kass\n\n Nigga Stu-B-Doo in the GS, three ooh ooh\n Playin number two Tekken, zero to sixty\n In six point seven seconds *tires screech* hangin out the window\n Actin up, chickenheads like \"You doin fo' months!\"\n Flexin the Rolex oyster perpetual, thirty-five diamonds\n Across the face, still eatin out foam cups and paper plates\n We don't call it playa hatin in the nine-eight, it's P.I.\n That's pass intereference, automatic first down\n Want Juice like Tupac, then Obey Your Thirst clown\n Be in the PJ's in NY, rockin DK\n Mix EJ with OJ, OK, we say\n \"L.A. niggaz got crazy came\n Like John Elway got a superbowl ring\"\n The homies down for whatever, we stack the chedda\n Swiss bank accounts, and mo' mozzarella fella\n\n ()\n\n Ugh! And it don't stop!\n\n HAHA, WESTSIDE RIDERS BABY, HAHA!\n\n *Fade out*\n"},{"id":6307373,"name":"H2O Proof","trackName":"H2O Proof","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":261.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ras Kass]\nI was lyrically Hip Hop's top 5, before two of my niggas died\nSyntax a deep impact Bruce Willis couldn't survive\nA strange death, since niggas wasn't loud\nI'm throwin monitors offstage cause Rakim said (move the crowd)\nI'm one year older, ten times more determined, potna\nA hairy situation like (Chaka?) fuckin Chewbacca\nConnect the dots, murder by design\nShit on your intellect, and fertilize your mind (mind)\nPull out the guage and we can face off like Nicolas Cage\nBattle for the second coming of Christ and see whose soul gets saved\nOne might be your girl so don't trust her. I'll tell it like Usher\n*Singing* Girl I'll make you wanna leave the clown you with,\nStart a new relationship, make the bitch take the dick\nShe ate the dick too, though, that's Mr. mafioso dulo\nWe bustin caps at your culo...\n\n[Saafir]\nWaterproof, baby. Know what I'm sayin? That means we can't be wet.\n\n*Scratching*\n(The waterproof MC, you ain't wettin me\nYou need to stop rappin and start robbin banks like Steady B)\n\n[Ras Kass]\nMy style is sex and violence, vocabulary and science, and an uneasy\nAlliance\nLet's toast the bread like a plugged up appliance (I'll drink to that!)\nRemy on the rocks, the real estated eventually, son\nReverse (deverdi pras to pras verdi?) like, Century 21\nI want the mansion and the yacht\nAnd all the shit them rich wack rappers got (then the ultimatum was read)\nLike every MC woke up with a thouroughbred horsehead in they bed\nIn other words, teflon tops with (keflar?) nuts\nThe closest I ever been to ass was cigarette butts\nI'm nice, that's probably why I don't be fuckin with Sprite\nCause thirst is nothin, image is everything on the mic\nThese days, these DJs get paid under the table\nPay the most popular producer on the most popular label\nPay for full page ads in the most popular magazine\nNow you got the most popular new artist\nGuaranteed the air we breathe is thin, better tell her\nThen I'ma choke the bitch out at 11: 59, reveal the real Cinderella\n(AAAAAAHHHHHHH!) When two hydrogens reach my oxygen atom\nYou can't gat 'em or get at 'em\nAnatomically designed to be solar, fuck the rap star\nWhen I die I want niggas doin drive-by's with my ashes in the car\nR-A-S, H20 liquifyin you assets\nRepo your flow even in (prepo letho?)\nStraight outta Aruba, lampin with my boo from Bermuda\nLickin rugers in Cuba, blowin niggas out the frame\nWith brass knuckles and a tuba, my new maneuver is scuba\n360 degrees of revenge like Montezuma\n\n*More scratching*\n[Saafir]\nWaterproof... know what I'm sayin? It's like this man... know what I'm\nSayin? Muthafuckas really gotta like reach within themselves, and pull your\nSpirit out your mouth... knowmsayin? But now it's all good cause I'm in\nRelation with the truth! You gonna have to really be yourself potna, look\nMe in the retina.\n\n[Ras Kass]\nWhen it's my time to shine, the whole world is goin blind\nFrom the sheisty side of town where a nickel cost a dime\nNiggas is (Boston?), Black brothas is bastards\nThe bubble break bread and give a nigga space like Nasa\nI catch red eyed flights to rok mics\nSpent too many drunk nights fuckin gold diggers and dikes\nSame shit, different toilet though, concentrated to blow\nI moonwalk across hot coals on my tippy toes for the flow\nStay low key like midget doorknobs\nStay above the law like Judge Judy giving blow jobs\nSatisfaction, three out of four Braxtons\nEspecially Toni, fuck affirmative action\nCause Anglo-saxon fashions is packin Mack-10s\nTrainin for helter skelter when the race war begin\nStay true to the game, but the game ain't true to the MC\nWhere niggas is bootleggin Makaveli 2 and 3\n\n[Saafir]\nReal game... waterproof.with the name, man. Listen to the name, man.\nWaterproof don't have no muthafuckin (?) Junction, with nothin. Ain't no\nImage!\n\n*Scratching*","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: H2O Proof\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 261000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Ras Kass]\n I was lyrically Hip Hop's top 5, before two of my niggas died\n Syntax a deep impact Bruce Willis couldn't survive\n A strange death, since niggas wasn't loud\n I'm throwin monitors offstage cause Rakim said (move the crowd)\n I'm one year older, ten times more determined, potna\n A hairy situation like (Chaka?) fuckin Chewbacca\n Connect the dots, murder by design\n Shit on your intellect, and fertilize your mind (mind)\n Pull out the guage and we can face off like Nicolas Cage\n Battle for the second coming of Christ and see whose soul gets saved\n One might be your girl so don't trust her. I'll tell it like Usher\n *Singing* Girl I'll make you wanna leave the clown you with,\n Start a new relationship, make the bitch take the dick\n She ate the dick too, though, that's Mr. mafioso dulo\n We bustin caps at your culo...\n\n [Saafir]\n Waterproof, baby. Know what I'm sayin? That means we can't be wet.\n\n *Scratching*\n (The waterproof MC, you ain't wettin me\n You need to stop rappin and start robbin banks like Steady B)\n\n [Ras Kass]\n My style is sex and violence, vocabulary and science, and an uneasy\n Alliance\n Let's toast the bread like a plugged up appliance (I'll drink to that!)\n Remy on the rocks, the real estated eventually, son\n Reverse (deverdi pras to pras verdi?) like, Century 21\n I want the mansion and the yacht\n And all the shit them rich wack rappers got (then the ultimatum was read)\n Like every MC woke up with a thouroughbred horsehead in they bed\n In other words, teflon tops with (keflar?) nuts\n The closest I ever been to ass was cigarette butts\n I'm nice, that's probably why I don't be fuckin with Sprite\n Cause thirst is nothin, image is everything on the mic\n These days, these DJs get paid under the table\n Pay the most popular producer on the most popular label\n Pay for full page ads in the most popular magazine\n Now you got the most popular new artist\n Guaranteed the air we breathe is thin, better tell her\n Then I'ma choke the bitch out at 11: 59, reveal the real Cinderella\n (AAAAAAHHHHHHH!) When two hydrogens reach my oxygen atom\n You can't gat 'em or get at 'em\n Anatomically designed to be solar, fuck the rap star\n When I die I want niggas doin drive-by's with my ashes in the car\n R-A-S, H20 liquifyin you assets\n Repo your flow even in (prepo letho?)\n Straight outta Aruba, lampin with my boo from Bermuda\n Lickin rugers in Cuba, blowin niggas out the frame\n With brass knuckles and a tuba, my new maneuver is scuba\n 360 degrees of revenge like Montezuma\n\n *More scratching*\n [Saafir]\n Waterproof... know what I'm sayin? It's like this man... know what I'm\n Sayin? Muthafuckas really gotta like reach within themselves, and pull your\n Spirit out your mouth... knowmsayin? But now it's all good cause I'm in\n Relation with the truth! You gonna have to really be yourself potna, look\n Me in the retina.\n\n [Ras Kass]\n When it's my time to shine, the whole world is goin blind\n From the sheisty side of town where a nickel cost a dime\n Niggas is (Boston?), Black brothas is bastards\n The bubble break bread and give a nigga space like Nasa\n I catch red eyed flights to rok mics\n Spent too many drunk nights fuckin gold diggers and dikes\n Same shit, different toilet though, concentrated to blow\n I moonwalk across hot coals on my tippy toes for the flow\n Stay low key like midget doorknobs\n Stay above the law like Judge Judy giving blow jobs\n Satisfaction, three out of four Braxtons\n Especially Toni, fuck affirmative action\n Cause Anglo-saxon fashions is packin Mack-10s\n Trainin for helter skelter when the race war begin\n Stay true to the game, but the game ain't true to the MC\n Where niggas is bootleggin Makaveli 2 and 3\n\n [Saafir]\n Real game... waterproof.with the name, man. Listen to the name, man.\n Waterproof don't have no muthafuckin (?) Junction, with nothin. Ain't no\n Image!\n\n *Scratching*\n"},{"id":6307380,"name":"Oohwee!","trackName":"Oohwee!","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Ras Kass)\nEverything I say don't be yae yo\nHaters in batter rams, I slam\nLike syringes in heroine, four hundred and fifty grams\nOverdose, every coast, one hundred spokes chrome\nKnock off some malt liquor by the malzatof\nDon't gotta floss, huh, ain't that the truth\nFlyin in boobies, silver six hundred Coup\nLike whoop whoop, holla at me big baby\nSop me up wit a biscuit, cuz you know it's all gravy\nLinquistical flow, I ain't Mystikal, but y'all ain't ready\nIf a nigga don't rhyme about crack, clothes, pussy and fatty\nEat a dick, that's music to my balls,\nLike Gloria Estefan fuckin Hakeem Olajuwon\nHow this black lil nigga get more head than a beauty salon\nGuam, blowin ya shit out like Chaka Khan\nFor sheezy, my favorite women is sleazy\nBisexual triplet freaks, forty five at they sexual peaks\nI'm fuckin three Tony's, like Rafael Saadiq\nAnd got a trick up my life, manufacturin cheese\nMy matrix will triculate wit melodies\nRehabilitated hood rats, shake the specie\nI'm tryin to die filthy, rich and ruthless, I'm easy\nSee Austin niggas is know for flossin\nBut I still buy my T-shirts and socks from the slossin\n\n(Chorus: Ras Kass & Curtis Daniels)\nIt's so must that I smash when I mash for me\nAsk Cash -N- Gash, nobody ride for free\nOohWee, they say Ras you a rider?\nI reply wit \"Hell yeah, I'm a rider\"\nI give it up for C. Austin\nThat's the city north of Long Beach, South Western Compton\nThey say Ras you a rider?\nI reply wit \"Hell yeah, I'm a rider\"\n\n(Ras Kass)\nWatch me catch bitches, the llama and the patch bitches\nFuck sex whippin homey, don't even trip\nI never seen a hood wit a retirement plan to medical benefits\nI'm bout seein black folk wit chips, and hundred thousand dollars whips\nInstead of monkey see, monkey power rule feelin you wit banana clips\nI plan to flip my manuscript, like dyslexics\nTo sed it, to bet it all, genetic telekinetic brawl\nSee I'm the difference between booty calls and blue balls\nTelethon wit Lou Rawls, and bevelin two percent off the top\nS-s-sorry, couldn't got to break mines off\nDecapitated, so where's he headed?\nI decapitate niggas, damage is bodily\nPut your tire on flat, and kill by a gat like Enis Cosby\nAin't no problem hoe, recognize\n\n(Chorus)\n\n(Ras Kass)\nMy tenant shoot pimpin is more like twenty shoot\nCuz no woman love me like the wimmy do\nI write raps while pullin the lent off my nut sack\nYou 50% butt crack, I mean half assed\nMC's we discover the mathematic format\nBeneath your north plan, I'm guaranteed to come will\nLike a reverse doormat, 64% Sega, 80 proof Congac,\nAnd toll free pagers\nI'm still comin out like I'm born babies wit hangers\nMy crew consist of millionaires, failures and gang bangers\nThe dangers of loaded language, my glock lick click\nGot it made, me no fillet, pay then sat out like sway\nRaid the police, cuz they sellin more crack then latinos and blacks\nSee we knows the facts, how Europeans jack\nI'm sellin Native Americans gats so they can take they land back\n\n(Chorus 2X)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Oohwee!\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 241000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n (Ras Kass)\n Everything I say don't be yae yo\n Haters in batter rams, I slam\n Like syringes in heroine, four hundred and fifty grams\n Overdose, every coast, one hundred spokes chrome\n Knock off some malt liquor by the malzatof\n Don't gotta floss, huh, ain't that the truth\n Flyin in boobies, silver six hundred Coup\n Like whoop whoop, holla at me big baby\n Sop me up wit a biscuit, cuz you know it's all gravy\n Linquistical flow, I ain't Mystikal, but y'all ain't ready\n If a nigga don't rhyme about crack, clothes, pussy and fatty\n Eat a dick, that's music to my balls,\n Like Gloria Estefan fuckin Hakeem Olajuwon\n How this black lil nigga get more head than a beauty salon\n Guam, blowin ya shit out like Chaka Khan\n For sheezy, my favorite women is sleazy\n Bisexual triplet freaks, forty five at they sexual peaks\n I'm fuckin three Tony's, like Rafael Saadiq\n And got a trick up my life, manufacturin cheese\n My matrix will triculate wit melodies\n Rehabilitated hood rats, shake the specie\n I'm tryin to die filthy, rich and ruthless, I'm easy\n See Austin niggas is know for flossin\n But I still buy my T-shirts and socks from the slossin\n\n (Chorus: Ras Kass & Curtis Daniels)\n It's so must that I smash when I mash for me\n Ask Cash -N- Gash, nobody ride for free\n OohWee, they say Ras you a rider?\n I reply wit \"Hell yeah, I'm a rider\"\n I give it up for C. Austin\n That's the city north of Long Beach, South Western Compton\n They say Ras you a rider?\n I reply wit \"Hell yeah, I'm a rider\"\n\n (Ras Kass)\n Watch me catch bitches, the llama and the patch bitches\n Fuck sex whippin homey, don't even trip\n I never seen a hood wit a retirement plan to medical benefits\n I'm bout seein black folk wit chips, and hundred thousand dollars whips\n Instead of monkey see, monkey power rule feelin you wit banana clips\n I plan to flip my manuscript, like dyslexics\n To sed it, to bet it all, genetic telekinetic brawl\n See I'm the difference between booty calls and blue balls\n Telethon wit Lou Rawls, and bevelin two percent off the top\n S-s-sorry, couldn't got to break mines off\n Decapitated, so where's he headed?\n I decapitate niggas, damage is bodily\n Put your tire on flat, and kill by a gat like Enis Cosby\n Ain't no problem hoe, recognize\n\n (Chorus)\n\n (Ras Kass)\n My tenant shoot pimpin is more like twenty shoot\n Cuz no woman love me like the wimmy do\n I write raps while pullin the lent off my nut sack\n You 50% butt crack, I mean half assed\n MC's we discover the mathematic format\n Beneath your north plan, I'm guaranteed to come will\n Like a reverse doormat, 64% Sega, 80 proof Congac,\n And toll free pagers\n I'm still comin out like I'm born babies wit hangers\n My crew consist of millionaires, failures and gang bangers\n The dangers of loaded language, my glock lick click\n Got it made, me no fillet, pay then sat out like sway\n Raid the police, cuz they sellin more crack then latinos and blacks\n See we knows the facts, how Europeans jack\n I'm sellin Native Americans gats so they can take they land back\n\n (Chorus 2X)\n"},{"id":6307389,"name":"The End","trackName":"The End","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":258.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"My puglistic linguistic rapping\nIs a mixture of slug 'em in\nSlug 'em in\nPlug 'em in, plug 'em in\nCome to spread it\nThe world exclusive\nCheck it\nFrom the underground producers\nTurn your face stone like Medusa\nSlap dick on a wicked pitch\n... sons\nThose who burn hurt turn nuns\nI be jumpin' through the flame\nWith the name B.O.B.B.Y.\nMakin' a hobby\nSmoke the honey dip got my throat groggy\nYou doo-doo brain dirtbag derelict dumbfuck\nWhat the fuck is wrong with you dickhead?\nNumb-nuts\nJust because you made a song or two\nWhat's the balance due on your royalties?\nRecord companies spoil me\nAs the ... hot oil me\nFuck that savage back up\nWu-Tang step inside the club\nNiggas might act up\nOne potato\nSmack you like the crossfader\nRap data, ... the elevators\nEscape the projects, livin' inside the skyscraper\nFuck that I'm takin' back the forty acres\n... nature\n(Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby)\n(Huh)\nYo, my Eve called 1-Adam-12, I got arrested\nAt first she protested\nBut only the seventh son of ... had the power\nBefore the Midori Sour with red cherries\nHereditary trait, seeking salvation like the Cranberries\nWrote Murder with Angela Lansbury often\nTil my biological clock stops and my casket falls\nWe sell tix like Boston basketball\nC-arson was askin' y'all\nIs Ras Kass the last to fall victim for wearin' no mask at all?\nNo gimmicks, just me bein' me\nBut you ain't bendin' or offendin' me\n'Cause anyways Hennessy used to be a better friend to me\nBut I had to stop drinkin' so many pints (Why?)\n\"Cause the tendency to forget\nIt ain't baseball, America's favorite national pastime is white\nSupremacy\nNever seen a nigga granted clemency\nMy metaphors is meta-five\nMy styles go up in your ... little boy, you get fucked, like pedophiles\nWhen it's all said and done I'ma retire to an island in the Caymans\nEnslavin' caucasians livin' off your mama's life savings\nI take it all in stride\nDennis Rodmans laced to the side\nThis nigga glide, like Clyde\nMy hands was tied\nSilent cries screamed genocide\nWhen two-thirds of the planet died in the end\nThe end justifies the means\nThe end is power\n(Power) Power corrupts -- absolute power corrupts absolutely\nYoung black man, let us begin","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The End\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 258000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n My puglistic linguistic rapping\n Is a mixture of slug 'em in\n Slug 'em in\n Plug 'em in, plug 'em in\n Come to spread it\n The world exclusive\n Check it\n From the underground producers\n Turn your face stone like Medusa\n Slap dick on a wicked pitch\n ... sons\n Those who burn hurt turn nuns\n I be jumpin' through the flame\n With the name B.O.B.B.Y.\n Makin' a hobby\n Smoke the honey dip got my throat groggy\n You doo-doo brain dirtbag derelict dumbfuck\n What the fuck is wrong with you dickhead?\n Numb-nuts\n Just because you made a song or two\n What's the balance due on your royalties?\n Record companies spoil me\n As the ... hot oil me\n Fuck that savage back up\n Wu-Tang step inside the club\n Niggas might act up\n One potato\n Smack you like the crossfader\n Rap data, ... the elevators\n Escape the projects, livin' inside the skyscraper\n Fuck that I'm takin' back the forty acres\n ... nature\n (Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby)\n (Huh)\n Yo, my Eve called 1-Adam-12, I got arrested\n At first she protested\n But only the seventh son of ... had the power\n Before the Midori Sour with red cherries\n Hereditary trait, seeking salvation like the Cranberries\n Wrote Murder with Angela Lansbury often\n Til my biological clock stops and my casket falls\n We sell tix like Boston basketball\n C-arson was askin' y'all\n Is Ras Kass the last to fall victim for wearin' no mask at all?\n No gimmicks, just me bein' me\n But you ain't bendin' or offendin' me\n 'Cause anyways Hennessy used to be a better friend to me\n But I had to stop drinkin' so many pints (Why?)\n \"Cause the tendency to forget\n It ain't baseball, America's favorite national pastime is white\n Supremacy\n Never seen a nigga granted clemency\n My metaphors is meta-five\n My styles go up in your ... little boy, you get fucked, like pedophiles\n When it's all said and done I'ma retire to an island in the Caymans\n Enslavin' caucasians livin' off your mama's life savings\n I take it all in stride\n Dennis Rodmans laced to the side\n This nigga glide, like Clyde\n My hands was tied\n Silent cries screamed genocide\n When two-thirds of the planet died in the end\n The end justifies the means\n The end is power\n (Power) Power corrupts -- absolute power corrupts absolutely\n Young black man, let us begin\n"},{"id":6307386,"name":"I Ain't Fuckin' With You","trackName":"I Ain't Fuckin' With You","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":282.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Intro:\nWhat? Nigga, You got problems?\nNigga you don't want no problems with me, shit\nNigga you ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick (coward)\nYou little bitch ass nigga, niggas be hovering niggas be bothering you\nI aun't fuckin' with y'all, I ain't fuckin with you\nI guess I got a bad attitude\n\nVerse 1:\nI spit slick shit like K-Y Jelly\nOut for the mail like Melly\nI'm fucking you tonight before Kelly\nMy bitches dance with there belly\nAnd fuck me with there eyes\nSee crime is where they organize\nIn the land of the blind the one eyed is genie\nA male chauvinist keep them barefoot in a two piece bikini\nNeed a bulletproof beenie when niggas got five minutes of funk\nMake them disappear like Houdini or who-done-it a Whoridah\nGot old folks scared just to go outside on there front porch\nAnd all this bullshit is going on in church of course\n(But but but but but wait it gets worse!)\nI could still instill a semi-automatic verse\nAnd draw blood like a nurse\nCorrespond like? and on the mic I bomb like nuclear fission\nAlphabetic mathematician your prerogative is my decision\nMy litigation gives me a reputation for giving niggas no get back like black reparations\nYou're doing too much 'cause I'm going to be rich nigga I put that on my two nuts\n\nChorus:\nI ain't fuckin' with you You're not to be fucked with\n(Big nigga I though you knew)\nCause we find this niggas mood is rude\nBut I know the Cause of your shitty attitude\n\nVerse 2:\nNow whenever I'm fed up we can go head up\nMy ex bitch called me a dog so I piss with one leg up\nStraight up and down three hundred and sixty-five rounds\nOne in the chamber for leap year keep clear\nI get my hands dirty like a sanitation worker so what's beef?\nBeef is that meat inside a hamburger and man-murder I stand further apart\nAnd Beat more rappers than Dr. Dre, Mo-Bee, Dimond Dee, and Mark Sparx (All Producers)\nThe quintessential micaphonist smoke the 50 thousand dollar bonus\nSwarming your green like locus\nYour vegetation was supposed to be edumacation\nLeft a nigga feeling like he's stranded in Serbia and he's the only Croatians\nNo relation that's my justification for ripping niggas\nStripping niggas bigga figgas tippin strippers\nIn the First King in the cut like scissors\nShoot her to the point and long dick her\nBang her to the point of exhaustion truly\nI ride her like that pony song and flip her (Flipper) like a dolphin movie\nListen no anal sex and no kissing\nDoggystyles my favorite position\nInsisting that you grab your ankles and lay face down bitch\nPlay like cuss words on the radio and turn that ass around (aww TIHS!)\nI puts it down like Davie though it's all gravy though\nPriority records got to pay me though but\n\nChorus:\n\nNow when it's on then it's on no shame in my game\nCowards wouldn't bust a grape if there name were Champaign\nI change lanes on dirtbikes and change direction at the speed of light\nI use my feet to catch the dice niggas gamble everyday anyway\nPaying the price of life kill a fifth of E and J everynight\nGot to be right to be impolite I've been mad\nSo how the fuck I'm supposed to keep my act clean like Sinbad\nSee white people burn your church\nThe see you in the mall and clutch there purse\nTreat a nigga like dirt when the black man was here first\nThat's why I be on one officially\nFuck white people in general and fuck the police specifically\nYou got at me but you're missing me sideways\nSo I'm giving rappers a curfew like I gave birth to you\nDon't be calling them shit shades when you know that its curtains for you\nI'm certain I'm hurting a few ego's Toni's, Mark's, and Nino's\nStompin with the big Dog Pino, see though\nI'll pull your card and get your chips like I'm Kino\nFrom Yugoslavia to Reno, Yeah homie we know\n\nChorus 3X","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Ain't Fuckin' With You\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 282000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Intro:\n What? Nigga, You got problems?\n Nigga you don't want no problems with me, shit\n Nigga you ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick (coward)\n You little bitch ass nigga, niggas be hovering niggas be bothering you\n I aun't fuckin' with y'all, I ain't fuckin with you\n I guess I got a bad attitude\n\n Verse 1:\n I spit slick shit like K-Y Jelly\n Out for the mail like Melly\n I'm fucking you tonight before Kelly\n My bitches dance with there belly\n And fuck me with there eyes\n See crime is where they organize\n In the land of the blind the one eyed is genie\n A male chauvinist keep them barefoot in a two piece bikini\n Need a bulletproof beenie when niggas got five minutes of funk\n Make them disappear like Houdini or who-done-it a Whoridah\n Got old folks scared just to go outside on there front porch\n And all this bullshit is going on in church of course\n (But but but but but wait it gets worse!)\n I could still instill a semi-automatic verse\n And draw blood like a nurse\n Correspond like? and on the mic I bomb like nuclear fission\n Alphabetic mathematician your prerogative is my decision\n My litigation gives me a reputation for giving niggas no get back like black reparations\n You're doing too much 'cause I'm going to be rich nigga I put that on my two nuts\n\n Chorus:\n I ain't fuckin' with you You're not to be fucked with\n (Big nigga I though you knew)\n Cause we find this niggas mood is rude\n But I know the Cause of your shitty attitude\n\n Verse 2:\n Now whenever I'm fed up we can go head up\n My ex bitch called me a dog so I piss with one leg up\n Straight up and down three hundred and sixty-five rounds\n One in the chamber for leap year keep clear\n I get my hands dirty like a sanitation worker so what's beef?\n Beef is that meat inside a hamburger and man-murder I stand further apart\n And Beat more rappers than Dr. Dre, Mo-Bee, Dimond Dee, and Mark Sparx (All Producers)\n The quintessential micaphonist smoke the 50 thousand dollar bonus\n Swarming your green like locus\n Your vegetation was supposed to be edumacation\n Left a nigga feeling like he's stranded in Serbia and he's the only Croatians\n No relation that's my justification for ripping niggas\n Stripping niggas bigga figgas tippin strippers\n In the First King in the cut like scissors\n Shoot her to the point and long dick her\n Bang her to the point of exhaustion truly\n I ride her like that pony song and flip her (Flipper) like a dolphin movie\n Listen no anal sex and no kissing\n Doggystyles my favorite position\n Insisting that you grab your ankles and lay face down bitch\n Play like cuss words on the radio and turn that ass around (aww TIHS!)\n I puts it down like Davie though it's all gravy though\n Priority records got to pay me though but\n\n Chorus:\n\n Now when it's on then it's on no shame in my game\n Cowards wouldn't bust a grape if there name were Champaign\n I change lanes on dirtbikes and change direction at the speed of light\n I use my feet to catch the dice niggas gamble everyday anyway\n Paying the price of life kill a fifth of E and J everynight\n Got to be right to be impolite I've been mad\n So how the fuck I'm supposed to keep my act clean like Sinbad\n See white people burn your church\n The see you in the mall and clutch there purse\n Treat a nigga like dirt when the black man was here first\n That's why I be on one officially\n Fuck white people in general and fuck the police specifically\n You got at me but you're missing me sideways\n So I'm giving rappers a curfew like I gave birth to you\n Don't be calling them shit shades when you know that its curtains for you\n I'm certain I'm hurting a few ego's Toni's, Mark's, and Nino's\n Stompin with the big Dog Pino, see though\n I'll pull your card and get your chips like I'm Kino\n From Yugoslavia to Reno, Yeah homie we know\n\n Chorus 3X\n"},{"id":6307371,"name":"Ice Age","trackName":"Ice Age","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":279.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ay how come you wont gimme no pussy tonite?\nAight well shake the spot then, you think you special\nI hear your car keys jinglin, get the fuck out\nEl Drex what you wanna do, Shai dog what you wanna do?\nKurupt what the fuck you wanna do?\nNigga is you a rider nigga?\nIs life fucked up\n\nThey let the gangstas in this muthafucka\nIce Age\n\nI ride for my homeboys Nigga its all about the money\nIts all about the chips\nLets get rich, what? what\n\nWith my new Tiny Tim, try again\nUp against the full wind, I'm an alien beast\nGenerate, penetrate, bust shots\nThen fled, quick sick in the head\nRippin motherfuckers to shreds\nFacsimilies, dont know, friend or foe\nElusive nigga this exclusive, conclusive evidence\nYour vision is short range\nRearranged, restructured, recomposed and decomposed\nDisassembled, dismembered, reconstructed, polished\nPerfected, demolished rejected, fo sho\nLike I'm supposed to know this nigga\nI aint neva seen him before --- my life\nBitch ass nigga, who tha fuck you supposed to be?\n\nCuz niggaz I grew up wit threw up shit\nOn sum I don't give a fuck shit\nMakin enemies duck shit\nI'm on some make a million bucks quick\nMoney gone! Quick get a duck sick trick\nNot the one to fuck wit\nMy dyke bitch pimpin on some Nike Flight shit\nLudicrous iron mic shit.stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\nTha Ice age!.Ice Age Stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\n\nNow Ben must be either pampered or crushed\nTo regulate, relegate and delegate power\nNigga touch sumtin, touch no one and die slower\nYou drain your battery you barely talkin like Teddy Ruxpin\nSee that's whattup nigga I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it will make Lil' Kim blush\nAs if a 98 Bentley didn't tempt me\nTo lay bullshit up in dis 60\nBut consequently my conscience didnt permit me\nI'm one third black man, one third Jackie Chan and one third sand\nShitftin across the surface of tha land\nGolden state warrrrior!!\nLet my nuts hang like niggas in nuiscance\nSo why uou givin groupies all your lucci?\nI've been known for fuckin hoochies in Suzukis\nAnd slippin bougie bitches roofie\nLoved yet feared severe yet loved\nThe full time titan, fightin 3 million over night thugs\nSo get your hand out your rectum cause you can't stop shit\nDon't rock shit,\nStudio hustlaz claim they got more ki's than a locksmith\nWhat part of the game is this, overtime\nGimme the mic, the money the pussy and the order\nThe more the overpopulated, get fucked and ovarie-copulated\nSo all you chumps on some you owe me and apology shit\nSuck your apology out my dick!\n\nWe all pawns in the game, but every pawn got his personal chess board\nBut how many pieces can you afford?\nWe got reason to believe you a traitor\nIn 20 words or less Webster's definition of a playa hater\nThe reason why you hate me so bad is cause you love me too much\nBut don't like yourself enough\nAnd homey thats it, your hands probably got callouses\nFrom the way you be swingin on my dick\nThat's why your main squeeze wanna fuck me for free\nSlit the finger on my monkey then she dropped to one knee\nIf she playin wit her pussy, she can suck on my D\nThen u can CUM wit ME.until u P H C!\n\nThey wanna know where Drex is, he's out fuckin in Texas\nI'm iller than AIDS so you don't really wanna catch dis\nDrivin in a Lexus wit niggaz that drive reckless\nI was thinkin murder back when Melle dropped \"The Message\"\nMoney bossin', C-me-arson, worse than Stone Cold Steve Austin\nJohn Gotti, drinkin notti, pullin holes thru your body\nWest coast silly bitch, East coast silly bitch\nI ain't Big Willie bitch, Drex gona kill a bitch!\n\nIs that my cash ya got?\nIs that my hash ya got?\nI hate to make you take yo shit off my man\nBut I don't think you know who the fuck I am\nAnalyze so what's the analysis\nYou startin bonfires, I'm burnin down palaces\nSee I know maniacs, arsonists with pyromaniacs\nMulti braniacs\n\nIce Age, Kurupt! Biaaaaatch!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Ice Age\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 279000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Ay how come you wont gimme no pussy tonite?\n Aight well shake the spot then, you think you special\n I hear your car keys jinglin, get the fuck out\n El Drex what you wanna do, Shai dog what you wanna do?\n Kurupt what the fuck you wanna do?\n Nigga is you a rider nigga?\n Is life fucked up\n\n They let the gangstas in this muthafucka\n Ice Age\n\n I ride for my homeboys Nigga its all about the money\n Its all about the chips\n Lets get rich, what? what\n\n With my new Tiny Tim, try again\n Up against the full wind, I'm an alien beast\n Generate, penetrate, bust shots\n Then fled, quick sick in the head\n Rippin motherfuckers to shreds\n Facsimilies, dont know, friend or foe\n Elusive nigga this exclusive, conclusive evidence\n Your vision is short range\n Rearranged, restructured, recomposed and decomposed\n Disassembled, dismembered, reconstructed, polished\n Perfected, demolished rejected, fo sho\n Like I'm supposed to know this nigga\n I aint neva seen him before --- my life\n Bitch ass nigga, who tha fuck you supposed to be?\n\n Cuz niggaz I grew up wit threw up shit\n On sum I don't give a fuck shit\n Makin enemies duck shit\n I'm on some make a million bucks quick\n Money gone! Quick get a duck sick trick\n Not the one to fuck wit\n My dyke bitch pimpin on some Nike Flight shit\n Ludicrous iron mic shit.stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\n Tha Ice age!.Ice Age Stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\n\n Now Ben must be either pampered or crushed\n To regulate, relegate and delegate power\n Nigga touch sumtin, touch no one and die slower\n You drain your battery you barely talkin like Teddy Ruxpin\n See that's whattup nigga I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it will make Lil' Kim blush\n As if a 98 Bentley didn't tempt me\n To lay bullshit up in dis 60\n But consequently my conscience didnt permit me\n I'm one third black man, one third Jackie Chan and one third sand\n Shitftin across the surface of tha land\n Golden state warrrrior!!\n Let my nuts hang like niggas in nuiscance\n So why uou givin groupies all your lucci?\n I've been known for fuckin hoochies in Suzukis\n And slippin bougie bitches roofie\n Loved yet feared severe yet loved\n The full time titan, fightin 3 million over night thugs\n So get your hand out your rectum cause you can't stop shit\n Don't rock shit,\n Studio hustlaz claim they got more ki's than a locksmith\n What part of the game is this, overtime\n Gimme the mic, the money the pussy and the order\n The more the overpopulated, get fucked and ovarie-copulated\n So all you chumps on some you owe me and apology shit\n Suck your apology out my dick!\n\n We all pawns in the game, but every pawn got his personal chess board\n But how many pieces can you afford?\n We got reason to believe you a traitor\n In 20 words or less Webster's definition of a playa hater\n The reason why you hate me so bad is cause you love me too much\n But don't like yourself enough\n And homey thats it, your hands probably got callouses\n From the way you be swingin on my dick\n That's why your main squeeze wanna fuck me for free\n Slit the finger on my monkey then she dropped to one knee\n If she playin wit her pussy, she can suck on my D\n Then u can CUM wit ME.until u P H C!\n\n They wanna know where Drex is, he's out fuckin in Texas\n I'm iller than AIDS so you don't really wanna catch dis\n Drivin in a Lexus wit niggaz that drive reckless\n I was thinkin murder back when Melle dropped \"The Message\"\n Money bossin', C-me-arson, worse than Stone Cold Steve Austin\n John Gotti, drinkin notti, pullin holes thru your body\n West coast silly bitch, East coast silly bitch\n I ain't Big Willie bitch, Drex gona kill a bitch!\n\n Is that my cash ya got?\n Is that my hash ya got?\n I hate to make you take yo shit off my man\n But I don't think you know who the fuck I am\n Analyze so what's the analysis\n You startin bonfires, I'm burnin down palaces\n See I know maniacs, arsonists with pyromaniacs\n Multi braniacs\n\n Ice Age, Kurupt! Biaaaaatch!\n"},{"id":6307375,"name":"It Is What It Is","trackName":"It Is What It Is","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":296.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring jazze pha\n\nI been around the world once had your fiancé twice\nI ain't nothin' nice but every lifestyle got a price\n\nKiss my momma on the cheek cause her love was deep\nLike keith sweat but the deeper the streets get\nThe deeper the beef get\nEnough fatal attraction to??? your vet\nCause everybody wanna have it??? and sh\nNow??? is my??? over night insight\nI write like six hundred thousand kilobytes\nYes i'm on one, european cars, cuban cigars, rap stars,\nGlass ceilings to the inevitable cap dealing for sexual healing\nI lack feeling, voted for black women like terry macmillan\nSave a prayer for me, i was told no guts no glory\nI shed a tear once in a while, too\nBut a soldier gots to do what he gots to do\nI once??? in??? for rupert murdoch, i thought you knew\nIt is what it is\n\nNowadays, that's the way it is\nWhy do we do what we do when we do what we must, that's\nHow it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\nIt's sad to say, but things just ain't the same no more\nWhy do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is\nWhat it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\n\nIf the pussy is free, then talk is cheap\nThen again, it's probably cheaper to keep her\nBack in the days, all a nigga needed was suede pumas and a beeper\nNow they all expecting condos, briquettes and pet cheetahs\nSee ya when i see ya\nAnd by then i know the motors she bogus i noticed they jockin the rims on\nThe???\nI learned early to trust god when moms was like You need to swoosh your ass and get a job\nMy occupation be operation, more horsepower than daytona\nCause i'm a rider, like wynonna\nBeing nice is a vice, the gift is naturally mine\nThat's like grand verbalizing not knowin the time\nSee, my partners commit crimes servin federal???\nConfined to a six by nine regretin the wrong shit he did\nI swig, wishing we was still little kids\nBut we grown men now homey, it is what it is\n\nHip hop ain't even fun\nIn these strange days, rappers is getting done\nLike jericho won\nWithin two months, two major artists got slumped\nI whispered 'god rest the dead' and let the??? pump pump\nKept a??? since about eleventh grade\nRock the donna carren shades\nCause i don't like to dream about getting paid\nBut i'm afraid i do\nTrying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines\nThis supreme fiends for cream\nWe need g's, like mary magdelline and born again christians\nAin't a politician cause i already got your vote\nTrue, i want your money but i ain't a preacher no\nI don't even love the dough\nBut if you don't work you don't eat, so i want all i can get before i go\nI love what money can get\nIt's elementary evidently, the custom convertible bentley tently\nIt is what it is\n\nX2\n\nThere are things that we can change\nSome things remain the same\nThat's just the way it is\nWay it goes, yeah\nThere are things that we can change\nBut most things gon' stay the same\nIt's the way it is\nYou better believe it, ooh yeah","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: It Is What It Is\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 296000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Featuring jazze pha\n\n I been around the world once had your fiancé twice\n I ain't nothin' nice but every lifestyle got a price\n\n Kiss my momma on the cheek cause her love was deep\n Like keith sweat but the deeper the streets get\n The deeper the beef get\n Enough fatal attraction to??? your vet\n Cause everybody wanna have it??? and sh\n Now??? is my??? over night insight\n I write like six hundred thousand kilobytes\n Yes i'm on one, european cars, cuban cigars, rap stars,\n Glass ceilings to the inevitable cap dealing for sexual healing\n I lack feeling, voted for black women like terry macmillan\n Save a prayer for me, i was told no guts no glory\n I shed a tear once in a while, too\n But a soldier gots to do what he gots to do\n I once??? in??? for rupert murdoch, i thought you knew\n It is what it is\n\n Nowadays, that's the way it is\n Why do we do what we do when we do what we must, that's\n How it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\n It's sad to say, but things just ain't the same no more\n Why do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is\n What it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up\n\n If the pussy is free, then talk is cheap\n Then again, it's probably cheaper to keep her\n Back in the days, all a nigga needed was suede pumas and a beeper\n Now they all expecting condos, briquettes and pet cheetahs\n See ya when i see ya\n And by then i know the motors she bogus i noticed they jockin the rims on\n The???\n I learned early to trust god when moms was like You need to swoosh your ass and get a job\n My occupation be operation, more horsepower than daytona\n Cause i'm a rider, like wynonna\n Being nice is a vice, the gift is naturally mine\n That's like grand verbalizing not knowin the time\n See, my partners commit crimes servin federal???\n Confined to a six by nine regretin the wrong shit he did\n I swig, wishing we was still little kids\n But we grown men now homey, it is what it is\n\n Hip hop ain't even fun\n In these strange days, rappers is getting done\n Like jericho won\n Within two months, two major artists got slumped\n I whispered 'god rest the dead' and let the??? pump pump\n Kept a??? since about eleventh grade\n Rock the donna carren shades\n Cause i don't like to dream about getting paid\n But i'm afraid i do\n Trying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines\n This supreme fiends for cream\n We need g's, like mary magdelline and born again christians\n Ain't a politician cause i already got your vote\n True, i want your money but i ain't a preacher no\n I don't even love the dough\n But if you don't work you don't eat, so i want all i can get before i go\n I love what money can get\n It's elementary evidently, the custom convertible bentley tently\n It is what it is\n\n X2\n\n There are things that we can change\n Some things remain the same\n That's just the way it is\n Way it goes, yeah\n There are things that we can change\n But most things gon' stay the same\n It's the way it is\n You better believe it, ooh yeah\n"},{"id":29675740,"name":"16 i ain't f'n with you","trackName":"16 i ain't f'n with you","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":282.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"What? Nigga, you got problems?\nNigga you don't want no problems with me, shit\nNigga you ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick\nYou little bitch ass niggas man, niggas be hovering\nNiggas be bothering you\nYou know what I'm saying, I ain't fucking with y'all\nYou know what I'm saying, I ain't fucking with you\nGuess I got a bad attitude, mhm, feel me\nHa, listen\n\nI spit that slick shit like K-Y Jelly\nOut for the mail, like Melly\nI'm fucking you tonight before R. Kelly\nMy bitches dance with they belly and fuck me with they eyes\nSee crime is rarely organized\nIn the land of the blind, the one eye is genie\nA male chauvinist, keep 'em barefoot in a two piece bikini\nNeed a bulletproof beanie\nWhen niggas got five minutes of funk, make 'em disappear like Houdini\nAnd who done it, a who rider\nGot old folks scared just to go outside of the front porch\nAnd all this bullshit is going on at church of course\nBut bu-bu-bu-but wait, it gets worse\nI can steal a semi-automatic first\nAnd draw blood like a nurse\nCo-respond like a kite in prison\nOn the mic a bomb like nuclear fission\nAlphabetic mathematician\nYour prerogative is my decision\nMy lyrication, gave me a reputation\nFor giving niggas no get back, like black reparations\nYou doing too much (Why?)\n'Cause I'ma be rich nigga, I put that on my two nuts\n\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig nigga, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n\nNow whenever I'm fed up, we can go head up\nMy ex-bitch called me a dog, so I piss with one leg up\nStraight up and down, 365 rounds\nOne in the chamber for the leap year, keep clear\nI gets my hands dirty like a sanitation worker\nSo what's beef?\nBeef is that meat inside a hamburger\nAnd man murder, I stand further apart\nAnd beat more rappers than Dr. Dre\nMobb Deep, Diamond D and Mark Sparks\nThe quintessential microphonist\nWant the $50,000 bonus\nSwarming your green like locusts\nYour vegetation was supposed to be edumacation\nLeft a nigga feeling like he's stranded in Serbia\nAnd he the only Croatian\nNo relation, that's my justification for ripping niggas\nStripping niggas bigger figures\nTipping strippers in the first king in the cut like scissors\nShoot her to the tilt and long dick her\nThen bang her to the point of exhaustion truly\nI ride her like that Pony song and flip her like the dolphin movie\nListen, no anal sex and no kissing\nDoggy style's my favorite position\nInsisting that you grab your ankles and lay face down bitch\nPlay like cuss words on the radio, and turn your ass around\nI puts it down like daily though\nIt's all gravy though\nPriority records gotta pay me though\n\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig nigga, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig homie, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n\nNow when it's on then it's on, no shame in my game\nCowards wouldn't bust a grape if they name was Champagne\nI change lanes on dirt bikes\nAnd change directions at the speed of light\nUse my feet to catch the dice\nNiggas gamble every day anyway\nPaying the price of life\nKill a fifth of E&J every night\nGot every right to be impolite\nI been mad\nSo how the fuck I'm supposed to keep my act clean like Sinbad\nSee white people burn your church\nThen see you in the mall and clutch they purse\nTreat a nigga like dirt when the black man was here first\nThat's why I be on one officially\nFuck white people in general and fuck the police specifically\nYou got at me but you missing me, I'm sideways\nSon I'm giving rappers a curfew, like I gave birth to you\nDon't be calling them shit shades when\nYou know that it's curtains for you\nI'm certain I'm hurting a few egos\nTony Montana's and Nino's stomping with the big dog Pino\nSee though I pull your card and get your chips, like Pokeno\nFrom Yugoslavia to Reno, yeah homie we know\n\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig nigga, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig homie, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig nigga, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude\nI ain't fucking with you\nYou're not to be fucked with\nBig homie, thought you knew\n365 This nigga mood is rude\nBut we know the cause of your shitty attitude","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: 16 i ain't f'n with you\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 282000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n What? Nigga, you got problems?\n Nigga you don't want no problems with me, shit\n Nigga you ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick\n You little bitch ass niggas man, niggas be hovering\n Niggas be bothering you\n You know what I'm saying, I ain't fucking with y'all\n You know what I'm saying, I ain't fucking with you\n Guess I got a bad attitude, mhm, feel me\n Ha, listen\n\n I spit that slick shit like K-Y Jelly\n Out for the mail, like Melly\n I'm fucking you tonight before R. Kelly\n My bitches dance with they belly and fuck me with they eyes\n See crime is rarely organized\n In the land of the blind, the one eye is genie\n A male chauvinist, keep 'em barefoot in a two piece bikini\n Need a bulletproof beanie\n When niggas got five minutes of funk, make 'em disappear like Houdini\n And who done it, a who rider\n Got old folks scared just to go outside of the front porch\n And all this bullshit is going on at church of course\n But bu-bu-bu-but wait, it gets worse\n I can steal a semi-automatic first\n And draw blood like a nurse\n Co-respond like a kite in prison\n On the mic a bomb like nuclear fission\n Alphabetic mathematician\n Your prerogative is my decision\n My lyrication, gave me a reputation\n For giving niggas no get back, like black reparations\n You doing too much (Why?)\n 'Cause I'ma be rich nigga, I put that on my two nuts\n\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big nigga, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n\n Now whenever I'm fed up, we can go head up\n My ex-bitch called me a dog, so I piss with one leg up\n Straight up and down, 365 rounds\n One in the chamber for the leap year, keep clear\n I gets my hands dirty like a sanitation worker\n So what's beef?\n Beef is that meat inside a hamburger\n And man murder, I stand further apart\n And beat more rappers than Dr. Dre\n Mobb Deep, Diamond D and Mark Sparks\n The quintessential microphonist\n Want the $50,000 bonus\n Swarming your green like locusts\n Your vegetation was supposed to be edumacation\n Left a nigga feeling like he's stranded in Serbia\n And he the only Croatian\n No relation, that's my justification for ripping niggas\n Stripping niggas bigger figures\n Tipping strippers in the first king in the cut like scissors\n Shoot her to the tilt and long dick her\n Then bang her to the point of exhaustion truly\n I ride her like that Pony song and flip her like the dolphin movie\n Listen, no anal sex and no kissing\n Doggy style's my favorite position\n Insisting that you grab your ankles and lay face down bitch\n Play like cuss words on the radio, and turn your ass around\n I puts it down like daily though\n It's all gravy though\n Priority records gotta pay me though\n\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big nigga, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big homie, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n\n Now when it's on then it's on, no shame in my game\n Cowards wouldn't bust a grape if they name was Champagne\n I change lanes on dirt bikes\n And change directions at the speed of light\n Use my feet to catch the dice\n Niggas gamble every day anyway\n Paying the price of life\n Kill a fifth of E&J every night\n Got every right to be impolite\n I been mad\n So how the fuck I'm supposed to keep my act clean like Sinbad\n See white people burn your church\n Then see you in the mall and clutch they purse\n Treat a nigga like dirt when the black man was here first\n That's why I be on one officially\n Fuck white people in general and fuck the police specifically\n You got at me but you missing me, I'm sideways\n Son I'm giving rappers a curfew, like I gave birth to you\n Don't be calling them shit shades when\n You know that it's curtains for you\n I'm certain I'm hurting a few egos\n Tony Montana's and Nino's stomping with the big dog Pino\n See though I pull your card and get your chips, like Pokeno\n From Yugoslavia to Reno, yeah homie we know\n\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big nigga, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big homie, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big nigga, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n I ain't fucking with you\n You're not to be fucked with\n Big homie, thought you knew\n 365 This nigga mood is rude\n But we know the cause of your shitty attitude\n"},{"id":29344538,"name":"18 the end","trackName":"18 the end","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":256.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"My puglistic linguistic rapping\nis a mixture of slug 'em in\nSlug 'em in\nPlug 'em in, plug 'em in\nCome to spread it\nThe world exclusive\nCheck it\nFrom the underground producers\nTurn your face stone like Medusa\nSlap dick on a wicked pitch\n... sons\nThose who burn hurt turn nuns\nI be jumpin' through the flame\nWith the name B.O.B.B.Y.\nMakin' a hobby\nSmoke the honey dip got my throat groggy\nYou doo-doo brain dirtbag derelict dumbfuck\nWhat the fuck is wrong with you dickhead?\nNumb-nuts\nJust because you made a song or two\nWhat's the balance due on your royalties?\nRecord companies spoil me\nAs the ... hot oil me\nFuck that savage back up\nWu-Tang step inside the club\nNiggas might act up\nOne potato\nSmack you like the crossfader\nRap data, ... the elevators\nEscape the projects, livin' inside the skyscraper\nFuck that I'm takin' back the forty acres\n... nature\n(Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby)\n(Huh)\nYo, my Eve called 1-Adam-12, I got arrested\nAt first she protested\nBut only the seventh son of ... had the power\nBefore the Midori Sour with red cherries\nHereditary trait, seeking salvation like the Cranberries\nWrote Murder with Angela Lansbury often\nTil my biological clock stops and my casket falls\nWe sell tix like Boston basketball\nC-arson was askin' y'all\nIs Ras Kass the last to fall victim for wearin' no mask at all?\nNo gimmicks, just me bein' me\nBut you ain't bendin' or offendin' me\n'cause anyways Hennessy used to be a better friend to me\nBut I had to stop drinkin' so many pints (Why?)\n\"cause the tendency to forget\nIt ain't baseball, America's favorite national pastime is white\nsupremacy\nNever seen a nigga granted clemency\nMy metaphors is meta-five\nMy styles go up in your ... little boy, you get fucked, like pedophiles\nWhen it's all said and done I'ma retire to an island in the Caymans\nEnslavin' caucasians livin' off your mama's life savings\nI take it all in stride\nDennis Rodmans laced to the side\nThis nigga glide, like Clyde\nMy hands was tied\nSilent cries screamed genocide\nWhen two-thirds of the planet died in the end\nThe end justifies the means\nThe end is power\n(Power) Power corrupts -- absolute power corrupts absolutely\nYoung black man, let us begin","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: 18 the end\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 256000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n My puglistic linguistic rapping\n is a mixture of slug 'em in\n Slug 'em in\n Plug 'em in, plug 'em in\n Come to spread it\n The world exclusive\n Check it\n From the underground producers\n Turn your face stone like Medusa\n Slap dick on a wicked pitch\n ... sons\n Those who burn hurt turn nuns\n I be jumpin' through the flame\n With the name B.O.B.B.Y.\n Makin' a hobby\n Smoke the honey dip got my throat groggy\n You doo-doo brain dirtbag derelict dumbfuck\n What the fuck is wrong with you dickhead?\n Numb-nuts\n Just because you made a song or two\n What's the balance due on your royalties?\n Record companies spoil me\n As the ... hot oil me\n Fuck that savage back up\n Wu-Tang step inside the club\n Niggas might act up\n One potato\n Smack you like the crossfader\n Rap data, ... the elevators\n Escape the projects, livin' inside the skyscraper\n Fuck that I'm takin' back the forty acres\n ... nature\n (Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby)\n (Huh)\n Yo, my Eve called 1-Adam-12, I got arrested\n At first she protested\n But only the seventh son of ... had the power\n Before the Midori Sour with red cherries\n Hereditary trait, seeking salvation like the Cranberries\n Wrote Murder with Angela Lansbury often\n Til my biological clock stops and my casket falls\n We sell tix like Boston basketball\n C-arson was askin' y'all\n Is Ras Kass the last to fall victim for wearin' no mask at all?\n No gimmicks, just me bein' me\n But you ain't bendin' or offendin' me\n 'cause anyways Hennessy used to be a better friend to me\n But I had to stop drinkin' so many pints (Why?)\n \"cause the tendency to forget\n It ain't baseball, America's favorite national pastime is white\n supremacy\n Never seen a nigga granted clemency\n My metaphors is meta-five\n My styles go up in your ... little boy, you get fucked, like pedophiles\n When it's all said and done I'ma retire to an island in the Caymans\n Enslavin' caucasians livin' off your mama's life savings\n I take it all in stride\n Dennis Rodmans laced to the side\n This nigga glide, like Clyde\n My hands was tied\n Silent cries screamed genocide\n When two-thirds of the planet died in the end\n The end justifies the means\n The end is power\n (Power) Power corrupts -- absolute power corrupts absolutely\n Young black man, let us begin\n"},{"id":32271447,"name":"Ice Age (Feat. Kurupt & El-Drex)","trackName":"Ice Age (Feat. Kurupt & El-Drex)","artistName":"Ras Kass","albumName":"Rasassination","duration":279.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ay how come you wont gimme no pussy tonite?\nAight well shake the spot then, you think you special\nI hear your car keys jinglin, get the fuck out\nEl Drex what you wanna do, Shai dog what you wanna do?\nKurupt what the fuck you wanna do?\nNigga is you a rider nigga?\nIs life fucked up\n\nThey let the gangstas in this muthafucka\nIce Age\n\nI ride for my homeboys Nigga its all about the money\nIts all about the chips\nLets get rich, what? what\n\nWith my new Tiny Tim, try again\nUp against the full wind, I'm an alien beast\nGenerate, penetrate, bust shots\nThen fled, quick sick in the head\nRippin motherfuckers to shreds\nFacsimilies, dont know, friend or foe\nElusive nigga this exclusive, conclusive evidence\nYour vision is short range\nRearranged, restructured, recomposed and decomposed\nDisassembled, dismembered, reconstructed, polished\nPerfected, demolished rejected, fo sho\nLike I'm supposed to know this nigga\nI aint neva seen him before --- my life\nBitch ass nigga, who tha fuck you supposed to be?\n\nCuz niggaz I grew up wit threw up shit\nOn sum I don't give a fuck shit\nMakin enemies duck shit\nI'm on some make a million bucks quick\nMoney gone! Quick get a duck sick trick\nNot the one to fuck wit\nMy dyke bitch pimpin on some Nike Flight shit\nLudicrous iron mic shit.stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\nTha Ice age!.Ice Age Stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\n\nNow Ben must be either pampered or crushed\nTo regulate, relegate and delegate power\nNigga touch sumtin, touch no one and die slower\nYou drain your battery you barely talkin like Teddy Ruxpin\nSee that's whattup nigga I don't give a fuck\nSpit some shit so nasty it will make Lil' Kim blush\nAs if a 98 Bentley didn't tempt me\nTo lay bullshit up in dis 60\nBut consequently my conscience didnt permit me\nI'm one third black man, one third Jackie Chan and one third sand\nShitftin across the surface of tha land\nGolden state warrrrior!!\nLet my nuts hang like niggas in nuiscance\nSo why uou givin groupies all your lucci?\nI've been known for fuckin hoochies in Suzukis\nAnd slippin bougie bitches roofie\nLoved yet feared severe yet loved\nThe full time titan, fightin 3 million over night thugs\nSo get your hand out your rectum cause you can't stop shit\nDon't rock shit,\nstudio hustlaz claim they got more ki's than a locksmith\nWhat part of the game is this, overtime\nGimme the mic, the money the pussy and the order\nThe more the overpopulated, get fucked and ovarie-copulated\nSo all you chumps on some you owe me and apology shit\nSuck your apology out my dick!\n\nWe all pawns in the game, but every pawn got his personal chess board\nBut how many pieces can you afford?\nWe got reason to believe you a traitor\nIn 20 words or less Webster's definition of a playa hater\nThe reason why you hate me so bad is cause you love me too much\nBut don't like yourself enough\nAnd homey thats it, your hands probably got callouses\nfrom the way you be swingin on my dick\nThat's why your main squeeze wanna fuck me for free\nSlit the finger on my monkey then she dropped to one knee\nIf she playin wit her pussy, she can suck on my D\nThen u can CUM wit ME.until u P H C!\n\nThey wanna know where Drex is, he's out fuckin in Texas\nI'm iller than AIDS so you don't really wanna catch dis\nDrivin in a Lexus wit niggaz that drive reckless\nI was thinkin murder back when Melle dropped \"The Message\"\nMoney bossin', C-me-arson, worse than Stone Cold Steve Austin\nJohn Gotti, drinkin notti, pullin holes thru your body\nWest coast silly bitch, East coast silly bitch\nI ain't Big Willie bitch, Drex gona kill a bitch!\n\nIs that my cash ya got?\nIs that my hash ya got?\nI hate to make you take yo shit off my man\nBut I don't think you know who the fuck I am\nAnalyze so what's the analysis\nYou startin bonfires, I'm burnin down palaces\nSee I know maniacs, arsonists with pyromaniacs\nMulti braniacs\n\nIce Age, Kurupt! Biaaaaatch!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Ice Age (Feat. Kurupt & El-Drex)\n artist: Ras Kass\n album: Rasassination\n duration_ms: 279000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Ay how come you wont gimme no pussy tonite?\n Aight well shake the spot then, you think you special\n I hear your car keys jinglin, get the fuck out\n El Drex what you wanna do, Shai dog what you wanna do?\n Kurupt what the fuck you wanna do?\n Nigga is you a rider nigga?\n Is life fucked up\n\n They let the gangstas in this muthafucka\n Ice Age\n\n I ride for my homeboys Nigga its all about the money\n Its all about the chips\n Lets get rich, what? what\n\n With my new Tiny Tim, try again\n Up against the full wind, I'm an alien beast\n Generate, penetrate, bust shots\n Then fled, quick sick in the head\n Rippin motherfuckers to shreds\n Facsimilies, dont know, friend or foe\n Elusive nigga this exclusive, conclusive evidence\n Your vision is short range\n Rearranged, restructured, recomposed and decomposed\n Disassembled, dismembered, reconstructed, polished\n Perfected, demolished rejected, fo sho\n Like I'm supposed to know this nigga\n I aint neva seen him before --- my life\n Bitch ass nigga, who tha fuck you supposed to be?\n\n Cuz niggaz I grew up wit threw up shit\n On sum I don't give a fuck shit\n Makin enemies duck shit\n I'm on some make a million bucks quick\n Money gone! Quick get a duck sick trick\n Not the one to fuck wit\n My dyke bitch pimpin on some Nike Flight shit\n Ludicrous iron mic shit.stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\n Tha Ice age!.Ice Age Stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick\n\n Now Ben must be either pampered or crushed\n To regulate, relegate and delegate power\n Nigga touch sumtin, touch no one and die slower\n You drain your battery you barely talkin like Teddy Ruxpin\n See that's whattup nigga I don't give a fuck\n Spit some shit so nasty it will make Lil' Kim blush\n As if a 98 Bentley didn't tempt me\n To lay bullshit up in dis 60\n But consequently my conscience didnt permit me\n I'm one third black man, one third Jackie Chan and one third sand\n Shitftin across the surface of tha land\n Golden state warrrrior!!\n Let my nuts hang like niggas in nuiscance\n So why uou givin groupies all your lucci?\n I've been known for fuckin hoochies in Suzukis\n And slippin bougie bitches roofie\n Loved yet feared severe yet loved\n The full time titan, fightin 3 million over night thugs\n So get your hand out your rectum cause you can't stop shit\n Don't rock shit,\n studio hustlaz claim they got more ki's than a locksmith\n What part of the game is this, overtime\n Gimme the mic, the money the pussy and the order\n The more the overpopulated, get fucked and ovarie-copulated\n So all you chumps on some you owe me and apology shit\n Suck your apology out my dick!\n\n We all pawns in the game, but every pawn got his personal chess board\n But how many pieces can you afford?\n We got reason to believe you a traitor\n In 20 words or less Webster's definition of a playa hater\n The reason why you hate me so bad is cause you love me too much\n But don't like yourself enough\n And homey thats it, your hands probably got callouses\n from the way you be swingin on my dick\n That's why your main squeeze wanna fuck me for free\n Slit the finger on my monkey then she dropped to one knee\n If she playin wit her pussy, she can suck on my D\n Then u can CUM wit ME.until u P H C!\n\n They wanna know where Drex is, he's out fuckin in Texas\n I'm iller than AIDS so you don't really wanna catch dis\n Drivin in a Lexus wit niggaz that drive reckless\n I was thinkin murder back when Melle dropped \"The Message\"\n Money bossin', C-me-arson, worse than Stone Cold Steve Austin\n John Gotti, drinkin notti, pullin holes thru your body\n West coast silly bitch, East coast silly bitch\n I ain't Big Willie bitch, Drex gona kill a bitch!\n\n Is that my cash ya got?\n Is that my hash ya got?\n I hate to make you take yo shit off my man\n But I don't think you know who the fuck I am\n Analyze so what's the analysis\n You startin bonfires, I'm burnin down palaces\n See I know maniacs, arsonists with pyromaniacs\n Multi braniacs\n\n Ice Age, Kurupt! Biaaaaatch!\n"}]