[{"id":7530371,"name":"Bricks Two","trackName":"Bricks Two","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"cooz mixtape vol.3","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\nAyyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n(D-Don)\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\nI'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\nA project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\nI'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\nI still got money buried in my back yard\nI'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n(Pacewon)\nYo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down cause the underground crown is still large\nSee I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\nNever catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\nRidin through your block with six new chains on\nPullin over droppin H-bombs\nNo doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n(- 2X w/ minor variations)\nJersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\nRock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n(Roz)\nFuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\nRoz spit rawness\nState to state, hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\nI'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\nAnd my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny, squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n(Shooga Bear)\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n(Double O)\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\nIt's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\nTalkin that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\nIt be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did ery'thang from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\nPlayin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n(Redman)\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nYo Brick City muh'fucka.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two\n  artist: Redman\n  album: cooz mixtape vol.3\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\n  Ayyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n  (D-Don)\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  I'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\n  A project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\n  I still got money buried in my back yard\n  I'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  (Pacewon)\n  Yo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down cause the underground crown is still large\n  See I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\n  Never catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  Ridin through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin over droppin H-bombs\n  No doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n  (- 2X w/ minor variations)\n  Jersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  (Roz)\n  Fuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  Roz spit rawness\n  State to state, hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  I'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\n  And my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any, squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  (Shooga Bear)\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  (Double O)\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  It's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\n  Talkin that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  It be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did ery'thang from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\n  Playin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n  (Redman)\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka.\n"},{"id":1290779,"name":"Bricks Two","trackName":"Bricks Two","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\nAyyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n(D-Don)\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\nI'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\nA project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\nI'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\nI still got money buried in my back yard\nI'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n(Pacewon)\nYo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down cause the underground crown is still large\nSee I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\nNever catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\nRidin through your block with six new chains on\nPullin over droppin H-bombs\nNo doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n(- 2X w/ minor variations)\nJersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\nRock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n(Roz)\nFuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\nRoz spit rawness\nState to state, hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\nI'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\nAnd my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny, squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n(Shooga Bear)\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n(Double O)\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\nIt's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\nTalkin that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\nIt be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did ery'thang from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\nPlayin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n(Redman)\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nYo Brick City muh'fucka.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\n  Ayyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n  (D-Don)\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  I'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\n  A project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\n  I still got money buried in my back yard\n  I'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  (Pacewon)\n  Yo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down cause the underground crown is still large\n  See I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\n  Never catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  Ridin through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin over droppin H-bombs\n  No doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n  (- 2X w/ minor variations)\n  Jersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  (Roz)\n  Fuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  Roz spit rawness\n  State to state, hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  I'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\n  And my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any, squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  (Shooga Bear)\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  (Double O)\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  It's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\n  Talkin that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  It be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did ery'thang from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\n  Playin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n  (Redman)\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka.\n"},{"id":5331669,"name":"Bricks Two - Album Version (Edited)","trackName":"Bricks Two - Album Version (Edited)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\nAyyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n(D-Don)\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\nI'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\nA project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\nI'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\nI still got money buried in my back yard\nI'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n(Pacewon)\nYo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down cause the underground crown is still large\nSee I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\nNever catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\nRidin through your block with six new chains on\nPullin over droppin H-bombs\nNo doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n(- 2X w/ minor variations)\nJersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\nRock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n(Roz)\nFuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\nRoz spit rawness\nState to state, hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\nI'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\nAnd my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny, squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n(Shooga Bear)\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n(Double O)\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\nIt's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\nTalkin that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\nIt be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did ery'thang from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\nPlayin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n(Redman)\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nYo Brick City muh'fucka.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two - Album Version (Edited)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\n  Ayyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n  (D-Don)\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  I'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\n  A project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\n  I still got money buried in my back yard\n  I'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  (Pacewon)\n  Yo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down cause the underground crown is still large\n  See I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\n  Never catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  Ridin through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin over droppin H-bombs\n  No doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n  (- 2X w/ minor variations)\n  Jersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  (Roz)\n  Fuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  Roz spit rawness\n  State to state, hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  I'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\n  And my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any, squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  (Shooga Bear)\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  (Double O)\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  It's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\n  Talkin that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  It be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did ery'thang from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\n  Playin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n  (Redman)\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka.\n"},{"id":5331670,"name":"Bricks Two (Album Version (Explicit))","trackName":"Bricks Two (Album Version (Explicit))","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\nAyyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n(D-Don)\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\nI'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\nA project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\nI'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\nI still got money buried in my back yard\nI'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n(Pacewon)\nYo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down cause the underground crown is still large\nSee I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\nNever catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\nRidin through your block with six new chains on\nPullin over droppin H-bombs\nNo doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n(- 2X w/ minor variations)\nJersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\nRock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n(Roz)\nFuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\nRoz spit rawness\nState to state, hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\nI'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\nAnd my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny, squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n(Shooga Bear)\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n(Double O)\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\nIt's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\nTalkin that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\nIt be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did ery'thang from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\nPlayin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n(Redman)\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nYo Brick City muh'fucka.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (Album Version (Explicit))\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk nigga\n  Ayyy, go smoke yo' weed nigga\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfuckaaaah\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don.\n\n  (D-Don)\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues, and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy! I gets more +Chips+ than +Ahoy!+\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets I got, love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your, basement concrete\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still, bringin the beef if you're, bringin me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  I'm Brick City baby twenty-fo'/seven\n  A project nigga that's, tryin to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on (AOWW!)\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler, and once again it's on\n  I still got money buried in my back yard\n  I'm Bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  (Pacewon)\n  Yo. we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut, and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down cause the underground crown is still large\n  See I rap for a livin, probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill\n  Never catch me at the ball-out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  Ridin through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin over droppin H-bombs\n  No doubt I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin\n\n  (- 2X w/ minor variations)\n  Jersey that's whassup (whassup yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch (smokin weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck (what the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  (Roz)\n  Fuckin with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it I fuckin roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  Roz spit rawness\n  State to state, hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like Easy Pass\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  I'm from the B-R-I, C-K-S\n  And my, squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any, squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  (Shooga Bear)\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin them now\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they, sever ears\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit I flip like Spock sent me\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they, brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  (Double O)\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  It's Double O again, still runnin, still gunnin\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin\n  Talkin that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm (??), y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  It be the Bricks again, with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did ery'thang from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it, like it's a big-ass joke\n  Playin like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley e'ry fuckin day\n\n  (Redman)\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka.\n"},{"id":25874231,"name":"Bricks Two (feat Double O, D-","trackName":"Bricks Two (feat Double O, D-","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":320.628812,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (feat Double O, D-\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 320629\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":6293356,"name":"Bricks Two","trackName":"Bricks Two","artistName":"Redman feat. D-Don, Double O, Shooga Bear & Roz","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two\n  artist: Redman feat. D-Don, Double O, Shooga Bear & Roz\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":37415491,"name":"Bricks Two","trackName":"Bricks Two","artistName":"Redman featuring Double O, D‐Don, Roz & Shooga Bear","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two\n  artist: Redman featuring Double O, D‐Don, Roz & Shooga Bear\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 320662\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":29411252,"name":"Bricks Two Feat. Double O, D-D","trackName":"Bricks Two Feat. Double O, D-D","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two Feat. Double O, D-D\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":17878803,"name":"Bricks Two Feat Double O D-don","trackName":"Bricks Two Feat Double O D-don","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":320.6617079,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two Feat Double O D-don\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 320662\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":6293357,"name":"Bricks Two (feat. D-Don, Double O & Shooga Bear)","trackName":"Bricks Two (feat. D-Don, Double O & Shooga Bear)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (feat. D-Don, Double O & Shooga Bear)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":29613769,"name":"Bricks Two (feat. Duble O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","trackName":"Bricks Two (feat. Duble O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (feat. Duble O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":29884149,"name":"Bricks Two Ft. Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear","trackName":"Bricks Two Ft. Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two Ft. Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":33310786,"name":"Bricks Two (ft Double o, d-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","trackName":"Bricks Two (ft Double o, d-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":26.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (ft Double o, d-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 26000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":16353743,"name":"Bricks Two (feat. Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","trackName":"Bricks Two (feat. Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":320.6845,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (feat. Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 320685\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":9735684,"name":"Bricks Two feat. Double O, D‐Don, Roz & Shooga Bear","trackName":"Bricks Two feat. Double O, D‐Don, Roz & Shooga Bear","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two feat. Double O, D‐Don, Roz & Shooga Bear\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":27017814,"name":"Bricks Two (f.Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","trackName":"Bricks Two (f.Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":320.653042,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (f.Double O, D-Don, Roz & Shooga Bear)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 320653\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":28335013,"name":"Bricks Two (Feat. D-Don, Double o, Pacewon, Roz and Shooga Bear)","trackName":"Bricks Two (Feat. D-Don, Double o, Pacewon, Roz and Shooga Bear)","artistName":"Redman","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":321.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (Feat. D-Don, Double o, Pacewon, Roz and Shooga Bear)\n  artist: Redman\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 321000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"},{"id":30651047,"name":"Bricks Two (Album Version (Explicit))","trackName":"Bricks Two (Album Version (Explicit))","artistName":"Redman, Roz, Shooga Bear, Double O., D-Don","albumName":"Malpractice","duration":320.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\nJust rhymin' over here man\nHey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\nAy, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\nYo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\nIt's Brick City dawgs over here\nWe gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\nIt's bone-afficial my nizzle\nD-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\nOh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\nI got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\nI keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\nI ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\nI'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\nAnd I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\nBraids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\nStill bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\nI, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\nCock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\nI'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\nA project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\nI done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\nI'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\nI still got money buried in my backyard\nI'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\nMy shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\nAnd I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\nYo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\nKids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\nLike they cut and you got the power to heal scars\nNever down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\nSee, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\nIf you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\nI'm all real, the one, the raw deal\nDo tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\nWhat the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\nNever catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\nInnovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\nWhen I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\nNever catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\nRather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\nI'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\nRidin' through your block with six new chains on\nPullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\nNo doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\nChancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nFuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\nDon't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\nNext up to bat, I done had enough of cats\nBlast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\nRoz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\nRhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\nLot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\nBut I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\nBack up and give the R room\nOr we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\nIn my city they don't pop they collar\nCats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\nI'm from the B R I C K S\nAnd my squad is hot, any beef they bless\nAny squad that test gon' meet they death\nAsk yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\nAiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\nThere's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\nPlus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\nSo whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\nPhenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\nPlus combined lines so minds demolish a click\nStill burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\nWith razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\nHard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\nScarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\nNow rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\nStill when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\nAnd never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\nBut if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\nY'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\nAnd sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nJersey that's whassup\n(Whassup, yo?)\nYou heard me light the Dutch\n(Smokin' weed)\nRock on like what the fuck\n(What the fuck?)\nJersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\nI'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\nI'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\nThat's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\nYou gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\nIt's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\nIt's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\nTalkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\nAnd ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\nBe big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\nY'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\nI'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\nMy camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\nIt be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\nIt ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\nI did everything from robberies to dope\nAnd y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\nPlayin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\nNinety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\nAnd if you niggaz don't like what I say\nI'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\nBrick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\nYo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\nSlow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.92] Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n[00:03.87] Just rhymin' over here man\n[00:06.16] Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n[00:06.94] Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n[00:09.16] Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n[00:15.31] It's Brick City dawgs over here\n[00:17.76] We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n[00:20.39] It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n[00:22.36] D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n[00:25.15] Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n[00:27.43] I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n[00:30.14] I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n[00:32.61] I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n[00:35.08] I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n[00:37.65] And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n[00:39.89] Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n[00:43.33] Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n[00:45.28] I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n[00:50.01] Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n[00:51.66] I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n[00:52.95] A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n[00:54.26] I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n[00:58.12] I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n[01:00.05] I still got money buried in my backyard\n[01:01.93] I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n[01:04.32] My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n[01:07.24] And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n[01:09.70] Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n[01:13.01] Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n[01:14.11] Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n[01:16.52] Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n[01:19.53] See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n[01:22.39] If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n[01:24.48] I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n[01:26.87] Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n[01:29.25] What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n[01:31.60] Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n[01:34.23] Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n[01:37.34] When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n[01:40.06] Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n[01:43.19] Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n[01:46.38] 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n[01:49.20] I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n[01:51.39] Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n[01:54.46] Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n[01:58.34] No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n[01:59.79] Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n[02:01.99] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:03.23] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:04.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:08.76] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:10.89] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:12.47] (What the fuck?)\n[02:14.89] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:15.84] Jersey that's whassup\n[02:18.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[02:19.81] You heard me light the Dutch\n[02:21.20] (Smokin' weed)\n[02:21.82] Rock on like what the fuck\n[02:22.62] (What the fuck?)\n[02:23.10] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[02:23.73] Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n[02:24.45] Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n[02:25.40] Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n[02:26.32] Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n[02:28.93] Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n[02:30.96] Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n[02:32.52] Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n[02:34.16] But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n[02:38.00] Back up and give the R room\n[02:41.89] Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n[02:44.25] In my city they don't pop they collar\n[02:46.38] Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n[02:48.79] I'm from the B R I C K S\n[02:51.45] And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n[02:53.94] Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n[02:56.54] Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n[02:58.34] Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n[03:01.84] There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n[03:04.98] Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n[03:08.24] So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n[03:10.01] Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n[03:11.77] Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n[03:13.62] Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n[03:16.12] With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n[03:18.44] Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n[03:19.56] Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n[03:21.57] Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n[03:23.39] Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n[03:24.08] And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n[03:26.12] But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n[03:29.82] Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n[03:36.28] And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n[03:38.68] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:40.20] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:41.30] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:42.46] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:43.63] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:44.96] (What the fuck?)\n[03:46.32] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:48.15] Jersey that's whassup\n[03:49.85] (Whassup, yo?)\n[03:50.58] You heard me light the Dutch\n[03:52.77] (Smokin' weed)\n[03:54.66] Rock on like what the fuck\n[03:56.57] (What the fuck?)\n[03:58.46] Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n[03:59.82] I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n[04:00.81] I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n[04:02.15] That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n[04:04.54] You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n[04:05.98] It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n[04:07.35] It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n[04:08.79] Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n[04:10.22] And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n[04:11.48] Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n[04:12.93] Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n[04:14.38] I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n[04:17.95] My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n[04:22.63] It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n[04:26.37] It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n[04:30.48] I did everything from robberies to dope\n[04:34.25] And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n[04:38.56] Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n[04:40.36] Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n[04:42.85] And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n[04:44.96] I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n[04:47.62] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n[04:52.59] Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n[04:57.73] Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n[04:59.55] Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n[05:01.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bricks Two (Album Version (Explicit))\n  artist: Redman, Roz, Shooga Bear, Double O., D-Don\n  album: Malpractice\n  duration_ms: 320000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  start_ms: 2920\n  end_ms: 3870\n- text: Just rhymin' over here man\n  start_ms: 3870\n  end_ms: 6160\n- text: Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  start_ms: 6160\n  end_ms: 6940\n- text: Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n  start_ms: 6940\n  end_ms: 9160\n- text: Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  start_ms: 9160\n  end_ms: 15310\n- text: It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  start_ms: 15310\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 20390\n- text: It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  start_ms: 20390\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25150\n- text: Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  start_ms: 25150\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37650\n- text: And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n  start_ms: 37650\n  end_ms: 39890\n- text: Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  start_ms: 39890\n  end_ms: 43330\n- text: Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  start_ms: 43330\n  end_ms: 45280\n- text: I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 52950\n- text: A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  start_ms: 52950\n  end_ms: 54260\n- text: I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  start_ms: 54260\n  end_ms: 58120\n- text: I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n  start_ms: 58120\n  end_ms: 60050\n- text: I still got money buried in my backyard\n  start_ms: 60050\n  end_ms: 61930\n- text: I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  start_ms: 61930\n  end_ms: 64320\n- text: My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  start_ms: 64320\n  end_ms: 67240\n- text: And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n  start_ms: 67240\n  end_ms: 69700\n- text: Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  start_ms: 69700\n  end_ms: 73010\n- text: Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  start_ms: 73010\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 76520\n- text: Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n  start_ms: 76520\n  end_ms: 79530\n- text: See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  start_ms: 79530\n  end_ms: 82390\n- text: If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  start_ms: 82390\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89250\n- text: What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  start_ms: 89250\n  end_ms: 91600\n- text: Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  start_ms: 91600\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 97340\n- text: When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n  start_ms: 97340\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: '''Til the day I''m rich like Bruce Wayne'\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 109200\n- text: I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n  start_ms: 109200\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 114460\n- text: Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  start_ms: 114460\n  end_ms: 118340\n- text: No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  start_ms: 118340\n  end_ms: 119790\n- text: Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n  start_ms: 119790\n  end_ms: 121990\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 121990\n  end_ms: 123230\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 123230\n  end_ms: 124300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 124300\n  end_ms: 128760\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 128760\n  end_ms: 130890\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 130890\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 134890\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 134890\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 138200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 138200\n  end_ms: 139810\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 139810\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 141820\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 141820\n  end_ms: 142620\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 142620\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 144450\n- text: Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  start_ms: 144450\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 146320\n- text: Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n  start_ms: 146320\n  end_ms: 148930\n- text: Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  start_ms: 148930\n  end_ms: 150960\n- text: Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  start_ms: 150960\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154160\n- text: But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n  start_ms: 154160\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: Back up and give the R room\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 161890\n- text: Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  start_ms: 161890\n  end_ms: 164250\n- text: In my city they don't pop they collar\n  start_ms: 164250\n  end_ms: 166380\n- text: Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n  start_ms: 166380\n  end_ms: 168790\n- text: I'm from the B R I C K S\n  start_ms: 168790\n  end_ms: 171450\n- text: And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  start_ms: 171450\n  end_ms: 173940\n- text: Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  start_ms: 173940\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 178340\n- text: Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  start_ms: 178340\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 188240\n- text: So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n  start_ms: 188240\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191770\n- text: Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  start_ms: 191770\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196120\n- text: With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n  start_ms: 196120\n  end_ms: 198440\n- text: Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  start_ms: 198440\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 203390\n- text: Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n  start_ms: 203390\n  end_ms: 204080\n- text: And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  start_ms: 204080\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 209820\n- text: Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  start_ms: 209820\n  end_ms: 216280\n- text: And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n  start_ms: 216280\n  end_ms: 218680\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 218680\n  end_ms: 220200\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 220200\n  end_ms: 221300\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 221300\n  end_ms: 222460\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 222460\n  end_ms: 223630\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 223630\n  end_ms: 224960\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 224960\n  end_ms: 226320\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 226320\n  end_ms: 228150\n- text: Jersey that's whassup\n  start_ms: 228150\n  end_ms: 229850\n- text: (Whassup, yo?)\n  start_ms: 229850\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: You heard me light the Dutch\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232770\n- text: (Smokin' weed)\n  start_ms: 232770\n  end_ms: 234660\n- text: Rock on like what the fuck\n  start_ms: 234660\n  end_ms: 236570\n- text: (What the fuck?)\n  start_ms: 236570\n  end_ms: 238460\n- text: Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n  start_ms: 238460\n  end_ms: 239820\n- text: I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  start_ms: 239820\n  end_ms: 240810\n- text: I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  start_ms: 240810\n  end_ms: 242150\n- text: That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  start_ms: 242150\n  end_ms: 244540\n- text: You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n  start_ms: 244540\n  end_ms: 245980\n- text: It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  start_ms: 245980\n  end_ms: 247350\n- text: It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  start_ms: 247350\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 251480\n- text: Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  start_ms: 251480\n  end_ms: 252930\n- text: Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  start_ms: 252930\n  end_ms: 254380\n- text: I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  start_ms: 254380\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 262630\n- text: It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  start_ms: 262630\n  end_ms: 266370\n- text: It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  start_ms: 266370\n  end_ms: 270480\n- text: I did everything from robberies to dope\n  start_ms: 270480\n  end_ms: 274250\n- text: And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n  start_ms: 274250\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  start_ms: 278560\n  end_ms: 280360\n- text: Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  start_ms: 280360\n  end_ms: 282850\n- text: And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  start_ms: 282850\n  end_ms: 284960\n- text: I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n  start_ms: 284960\n  end_ms: 287620\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  start_ms: 287620\n  end_ms: 292590\n- text: Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  start_ms: 292590\n  end_ms: 297730\n- text: Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  start_ms: 297730\n  end_ms: 299550\n- text: Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n  start_ms: 299550\n  end_ms: 301940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 301940\nplain: |-\n  Hey man, hey man, yeah go 'head with that man\n  Just rhymin' over here man\n  Hey go 'head, go get drunk, nigga\n  Ay, go smoke yo' weed, nigga\n\n  Yo, go drink yo' forty motherfucka\n  It's Brick City dawgs over here\n  We gon' take it down like this, yo, D-Don, Don\n\n  It's bone-afficial my nizzle\n  D-Don got issues and a type team that dismiss you\n  Oh boy, I gets more chips than ahoy\n  I got toys that deploy, I just aim and destroy\n\n  I keeps it gully in a bonafide skully\n  I ain't never had a hit but still get props like Nelly\n  I'm platinum in streets, I got love in the streets\n  And I'm more underground than your basement concrete\n\n  Braids in my hair, gold still in my teeth\n  Still bringin' the beef if you're bringin' me grief\n  I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two\n  Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew\n\n  I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven\n  A project nigga, that's tryin' to see heaven\n  I done ran through hell with gasoline drawers on\n  I'm the portrait of a hustler and once again it's on\n\n  I still got money buried in my backyard\n  I'm bumpy like Johnson, they call me D-Don\n  My shit's so dope when you smoke you nod\n  And I spit that shit that leave you holy like the song\n\n  Yo, we from the place where they pump out D and steal cars\n  Kids wild wave at you and smile you feel large\n  Like they cut and you got the power to heal scars\n  Never down 'cause the underground crown is still large\n\n  See, I rap for a livin' probably rap 'til I die\n  If you dope, where you been at? Your raps is a lie\n  I'm all real, the one, the raw deal\n  Do tour, come home, do a flick for four mill'\n\n  What the hardcore heads on the block would call ill?\n  Never catch me at the ball out spot with small bills\n  Innovative rapper, rhyme in new ways\n  When I spit niggaz cough up blood for two days\n\n  Never catch me with material girls, they fugaz'\n  Rather bounce with a short chicken head in blue shades\n  'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne\n  I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game\n\n  Ridin' through your block with six new chains on\n  Pullin' over, droppin' H-bombs\n  No doubt, I got it locked Sanford Ave. to Penn Station\n  Chancellor to Central a thousand men waitin'\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Fuckin' with me is a close call out of my crew\n  Don't try it, I fuckin' roast y'all, you and your co-stars\n  Next up to bat, I done had enough of cats\n  Blast tracks like what the fuck was that?\n\n  Roz spit rawness, state to state hood streets and block corners\n  Rhymes hold so much weight, the feds on us\n  Lot of niggaz didn't wanna see me last\n  But I won't stop just slow down like easy pass\n\n  Back up and give the R room\n  Or we gon' brawl worse than cartoons in bar rooms\n  In my city they don't pop they collar\n  Cats that do, get shot drop and holla\n\n  I'm from the B R I C K S\n  And my squad is hot, any beef they bless\n  Any squad that test gon' meet they death\n  Ask yourself, do you really need that stress?\n\n  Aiyyo, I project my voice so it's right in the crowd\n  There's a sign at the door, no bitin' allowed\n  Plus the blows that I throw bring a light in the sound\n  So whoever want the drama I'm invitin' them now\n\n  Phenomenal shit, spit 'til my abdominal split\n  Plus combined lines so minds demolish a click\n  Still burn MC's like Everclear, never fear\n  With razor sharp skills so ill they sever ears\n\n  Hard to the roots a hundred proof with no chaser\n  Scarves and some boots a hundred troops with chrome bangers\n  Now rock with me, I spray blocks with glock fifties\n  Still when I spit, I flip like spock sent me\n\n  And never gave a fuck what a rapper grossed\n  But if they brag and boast I'ma clap the toast\n  Y'all can analyze this, watch me paralyze clicks\n  And sabotage y'all, I ain't a fan of y'all shit\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  Jersey that's whassup\n  (Whassup, yo?)\n  You heard me light the Dutch\n  (Smokin' weed)\n  Rock on like what the fuck\n  (What the fuck?)\n  Jersey that's whassup, Brick City\n\n  I'm a nasty ass disease, and now I got ya mouth celibate\n  I'm a direct descendant of Hannibal's elephants\n  That's word to mother, them damn jokes is over\n  You gon' run your mouth like a motor 'til I fuck up the rotor\n\n  It's Double O again, still runnin', still gunnin'\n  It's like I got a cast-iron dick, I'm still cummin'\n  Talkin' that killer shit like you blood raw\n  And ain't even did ten minutes in the back of a squad car\n\n  Be big niggaz to they weak, I'm true to the streets\n  Y'all niggaz is half-assed like one booty cheek\n  I'm [Incomprehensible], y'all is Swiss Miss\n  My camp'll make your army pull back like a slipped disc\n\n  It be the Bricks again with me with them steel rods\n  It ain't right unless Shane, Tariq, and Raouf Nayim is involved\n  I did everything from robberies to dope\n  And y'all just lie about it like it's a big-ass joke\n\n  Playin' like kids, I think you want me to spank you\n  Ninety-nine on the charts with a ship anchor on your ankle\n  And if you niggaz don't like what I say\n  I'm in Newark on Market and Hasley every fuckin' day\n\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, slow down nigga\n  Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga, sip yo' liquor\n  Yo Brick City muh'fucka, that's the way it go down nigga\n  Slow down nigga, yo Brick City muh'fucka\n"}]