[{"id":27155296,"name":"HH085 - NOBODY - RICK ROSS & FRENCH MONTANA & DIDDY","trackName":"HH085 - NOBODY - RICK ROSS & FRENCH MONTANA & DIDDY","artistName":"NOBODY","albumName":"RICK ROSS & FRENCH MONTANA & DIDDY","duration":281.2668,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.08] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.04] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.19] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.43] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.38] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.01] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.65] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.36] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.45] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.03] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.42] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.44] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.10] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.70] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.51] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.92] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.13] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.29] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.48] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.58] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.05] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.30] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.53] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.64] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.46] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.59] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.28] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.30] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.89] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.06] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.54] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.29] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.19] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.23] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.40] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.76] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.79] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.47] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.09] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.44] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.30] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.31] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.59] What defines you?\n[02:25.41] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.92] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.10] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.03] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.85] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.50] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.62] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.32] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.35] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.82] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.16] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.50] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.69] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.35] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.48] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.15] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.94] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.64] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.44] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.88] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.44] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.21] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.67] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.52] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.22] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.84] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.16] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.37] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.09] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.78] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.72] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.42] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.08] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.98] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: HH085 - NOBODY - RICK ROSS & FRENCH MONTANA & DIDDY\n  artist: NOBODY\n  album: RICK ROSS & FRENCH MONTANA & DIDDY\n  duration_ms: 281267\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 80\n  end_ms: 4040\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4040\n  end_ms: 6190\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6190\n  end_ms: 8430\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8430\n  end_ms: 13380\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13380\n  end_ms: 15010\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15010\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18650\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18650\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28450\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28450\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 38440\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38440\n  end_ms: 41100\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41100\n  end_ms: 43700\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43700\n  end_ms: 52510\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52510\n  end_ms: 58920\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58920\n  end_ms: 62130\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62130\n  end_ms: 64290\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64290\n  end_ms: 67480\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67480\n  end_ms: 69580\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69580\n  end_ms: 73050\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73050\n  end_ms: 75300\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75300\n  end_ms: 78530\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78530\n  end_ms: 81640\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81640\n  end_ms: 84460\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84460\n  end_ms: 86590\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86590\n  end_ms: 90280\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90280\n  end_ms: 92300\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92300\n  end_ms: 95890\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95890\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 101540\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101540\n  end_ms: 104290\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104290\n  end_ms: 107190\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107190\n  end_ms: 109230\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109230\n  end_ms: 112400\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112400\n  end_ms: 114760\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114760\n  end_ms: 117790\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117790\n  end_ms: 120470\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120470\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 130440\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130440\n  end_ms: 137300\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137300\n  end_ms: 140310\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140310\n  end_ms: 143590\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143590\n  end_ms: 145410\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145410\n  end_ms: 150920\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150920\n  end_ms: 156100\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156100\n  end_ms: 158030\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158030\n  end_ms: 159850\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159850\n  end_ms: 163500\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163500\n  end_ms: 165620\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165620\n  end_ms: 169320\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169320\n  end_ms: 171350\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171350\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180500\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180500\n  end_ms: 183690\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183690\n  end_ms: 186350\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186350\n  end_ms: 188480\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188480\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194150\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194150\n  end_ms: 197940\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197940\n  end_ms: 199640\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199640\n  end_ms: 203440\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203440\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208880\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208880\n  end_ms: 211440\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211440\n  end_ms: 214210\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214210\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219520\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219520\n  end_ms: 222220\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222220\n  end_ms: 224840\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224840\n  end_ms: 237160\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237160\n  end_ms: 238370\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238370\n  end_ms: 242090\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242090\n  end_ms: 245780\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245780\n  end_ms: 248720\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248720\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 256080\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256080\n  end_ms: 257980\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257980\n  end_ms: 260100\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260100\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":14810416,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross ft. French Montana & Puff Daddy","albumName":"Nobody","duration":355.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:54.61] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:58.31] These niggas is roaches\n[01:00.59] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[01:03.40] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[01:07.35] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[01:10.56] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[01:11.96] You wanna get by\n[01:13.76] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[01:16.49] Where it's lonely\n[01:18.63] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[01:22.42] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[01:28.13] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:30.48] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:32.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:35.20] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[01:38.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[01:45.64] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[01:53.88] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:56.88] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:59.16] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[02:02.09] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[02:04.14] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[02:06.38] So it's bang, no survivors\n[02:09.87] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[02:13.35] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[02:16.23] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[02:19.05] No wire, on fire\n[02:22.54] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[02:25.10] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[02:27.57] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[02:29.28] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[02:34.11] I pray you smoke with me\n[02:36.49] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[02:38.85] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[02:42.02] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[02:44.13] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[02:46.71] Mama's tryna save me\n[02:49.37] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[02:51.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:54.79] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:57.39] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:08.93] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[03:13.24] What the fuck is their culture?\n[03:14.89] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[03:17.45] What defines you?\n[03:20.15] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[03:24.61] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[03:30.69] Make up your got damn mind\n[03:32.82] I'm from where the streets test you\n[03:34.78] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[03:37.56] The narcotics is our product\n[03:39.92] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[03:43.21] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[03:45.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[03:47.99] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[03:51.18] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:55.16] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:58.85] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[04:00.91] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[04:03.16] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[04:06.80] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[04:08.89] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[04:12.27] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[04:14.49] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[04:18.15] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[04:20.48] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[04:23.32] We Magic City of the networks\n[04:25.75] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[04:28.87] Mama's tryna save me\n[04:31.42] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[04:33.56] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[04:36.36] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[04:39.13] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[04:47.68] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[04:53.45] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:56.89] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:59.83] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[05:02.55] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[05:06.88] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[05:13.36] The truth'll set you free, son\n[05:15.13] The truth will set you free\n[05:39.44] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross ft. French Montana & Puff Daddy\n  album: Nobody\n  duration_ms: 355000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 54610\n  end_ms: 58310\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 58310\n  end_ms: 60590\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 60590\n  end_ms: 63400\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 63400\n  end_ms: 67350\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 67350\n  end_ms: 70560\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 70560\n  end_ms: 71960\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 71960\n  end_ms: 73760\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 73760\n  end_ms: 76490\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 76490\n  end_ms: 78630\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 78630\n  end_ms: 82420\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 82420\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90480\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 90480\n  end_ms: 92530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 92530\n  end_ms: 95200\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 95200\n  end_ms: 98030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 98030\n  end_ms: 105640\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 105640\n  end_ms: 113880\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 113880\n  end_ms: 116880\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 116880\n  end_ms: 119160\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 119160\n  end_ms: 122090\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 122090\n  end_ms: 124140\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 124140\n  end_ms: 126380\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 126380\n  end_ms: 129870\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 129870\n  end_ms: 133350\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 133350\n  end_ms: 136230\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 136230\n  end_ms: 139050\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 139050\n  end_ms: 142540\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 142540\n  end_ms: 145100\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 145100\n  end_ms: 147570\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 147570\n  end_ms: 149280\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 149280\n  end_ms: 154110\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 154110\n  end_ms: 156490\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 156490\n  end_ms: 158850\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 158850\n  end_ms: 162020\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 162020\n  end_ms: 164130\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 164130\n  end_ms: 166710\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 166710\n  end_ms: 169370\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 169370\n  end_ms: 171490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 171490\n  end_ms: 174790\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 174790\n  end_ms: 177390\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 177390\n  end_ms: 188930\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 188930\n  end_ms: 193240\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 193240\n  end_ms: 194890\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 194890\n  end_ms: 197450\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 197450\n  end_ms: 200150\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 200150\n  end_ms: 204610\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 204610\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 212820\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 212820\n  end_ms: 214780\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 214780\n  end_ms: 217560\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 217560\n  end_ms: 219920\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 219920\n  end_ms: 223210\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 223210\n  end_ms: 225320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 225320\n  end_ms: 227990\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 227990\n  end_ms: 231180\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 231180\n  end_ms: 235160\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 235160\n  end_ms: 238850\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 238850\n  end_ms: 240910\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 240910\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 246800\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 246800\n  end_ms: 248890\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 248890\n  end_ms: 252270\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 252270\n  end_ms: 254490\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 254490\n  end_ms: 258150\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 258150\n  end_ms: 260480\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 260480\n  end_ms: 263320\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 263320\n  end_ms: 265750\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 265750\n  end_ms: 268870\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 268870\n  end_ms: 271420\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 271420\n  end_ms: 273560\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 273560\n  end_ms: 276360\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 276360\n  end_ms: 279130\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 279130\n  end_ms: 287680\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 287680\n  end_ms: 293450\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 293450\n  end_ms: 296890\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 296890\n  end_ms: 299830\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 299830\n  end_ms: 302550\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 302550\n  end_ms: 306880\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 306880\n  end_ms: 313360\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 313360\n  end_ms: 315130\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 315130\n  end_ms: 339440\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 339440\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":5382102,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe)","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe)\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":3685368,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\"Blast for me\" the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed to Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga!\nMake up your got damn mind!\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.03] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.13] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.45] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.35] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.07] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.13] You wanna get by\n[00:18.61] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.31] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.24] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.46] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.02] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.42] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.11] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.77] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.52] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.93] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.13] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.38] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.45] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.59] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.04] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.39] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.57] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.68] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.48] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.23] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.37] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.86] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.06] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.51] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.12] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.41] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.75] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.78] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.43] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.09] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.55] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.36] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.31] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.58] What defines you?\n[02:25.47] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:31.00] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.11] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.00] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.82] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.59] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.66] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.32] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.33] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.85] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.10] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.51] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.30] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.44] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.02] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.17] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.91] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.63] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.42] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.43] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.81] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.44] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.28] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.60] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.58] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.28] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.85] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.14] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.39] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.04] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.71] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.79] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.45] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.02] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.92] The truth will set you free\n[04:41.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 30\n  end_ms: 4130\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4130\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 13350\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13350\n  end_ms: 15070\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15070\n  end_ms: 17130\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17130\n  end_ms: 18610\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18610\n  end_ms: 22310\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22310\n  end_ms: 23240\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23240\n  end_ms: 28460\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28460\n  end_ms: 33020\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33020\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41110\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41110\n  end_ms: 43770\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43770\n  end_ms: 52520\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52520\n  end_ms: 58930\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58930\n  end_ms: 62130\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62130\n  end_ms: 64380\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64380\n  end_ms: 67450\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67450\n  end_ms: 69590\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69590\n  end_ms: 73040\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73040\n  end_ms: 75390\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75390\n  end_ms: 78570\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78570\n  end_ms: 81680\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81680\n  end_ms: 84480\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84480\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90230\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90230\n  end_ms: 92370\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92370\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 100060\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100060\n  end_ms: 101510\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101510\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107120\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107120\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112410\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112410\n  end_ms: 114750\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114750\n  end_ms: 117780\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117780\n  end_ms: 120430\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120430\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 130550\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130550\n  end_ms: 137360\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137360\n  end_ms: 140310\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140310\n  end_ms: 143580\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143580\n  end_ms: 145470\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145470\n  end_ms: 151000\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 151000\n  end_ms: 156110\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156110\n  end_ms: 158000\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158000\n  end_ms: 159820\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159820\n  end_ms: 163590\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163590\n  end_ms: 165660\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165660\n  end_ms: 169320\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169320\n  end_ms: 171330\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171330\n  end_ms: 174850\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174850\n  end_ms: 177100\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177100\n  end_ms: 180510\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180510\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186300\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186300\n  end_ms: 188440\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188440\n  end_ms: 192020\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192020\n  end_ms: 194170\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194170\n  end_ms: 197910\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197910\n  end_ms: 199630\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199630\n  end_ms: 203420\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203420\n  end_ms: 205430\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205430\n  end_ms: 208810\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208810\n  end_ms: 211440\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211440\n  end_ms: 214280\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214280\n  end_ms: 216600\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216600\n  end_ms: 219580\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219580\n  end_ms: 222280\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222280\n  end_ms: 224850\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224850\n  end_ms: 237140\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237140\n  end_ms: 238390\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238390\n  end_ms: 242040\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242040\n  end_ms: 245710\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245710\n  end_ms: 248790\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248790\n  end_ms: 253450\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253450\n  end_ms: 256020\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256020\n  end_ms: 257920\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257920\n  end_ms: 281140\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  \"Blast for me\" the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed to Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga!\n  Make up your got damn mind!\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":14369056,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe Edition)","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe Edition)\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":21669997,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe Version)","duration":281.106875,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 281107\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":14097834,"name":"Nobody (Dirty)","trackName":"Nobody (Dirty)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"XMiX Digital Single (Feb 2014)","duration":281.133,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (Dirty)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: XMiX Digital Single (Feb 2014)\n  duration_ms: 281133\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":5697602,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":32102836,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"www.ToxicWap.com","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: www.ToxicWap.com\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":16667111,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (version deluxe)","duration":281.103673,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (version deluxe)\n  duration_ms: 281104\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":17074523,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Super Deluxe Edition)","duration":281.088,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Super Deluxe Edition)\n  duration_ms: 281088\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":16248039,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe Edition)","duration":281.053333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe Edition)\n  duration_ms: 281053\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":9644183,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe Version)","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":9407746,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe)","duration":282.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe)\n  duration_ms: 282000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":27971483,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind [iTunes Deluxe Edition] (Explicit)","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:02.91] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.61] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.62] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:11.63] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:14.69] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:16.68] You wanna get by\n[00:18.27] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:21.05] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.20] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:27.43] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:32.14] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:34.26] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:37.49] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:40.19] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:41.90] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:50.80] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.47] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:00.84] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.19] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:06.50] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:08.94] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:11.60] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.86] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.79] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.18] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:23.99] No wire, on fire\n[01:25.64] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:29.21] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:31.72] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:34.69] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:38.81] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:40.52] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:43.91] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:46.94] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:48.16] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.00] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:53.72] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.53] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[01:59.05] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:02.03] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.77] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:16.81] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:19.59] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:22.46] What defines you?\n[02:25.48] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:29.79] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:34.26] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:37.65] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.75] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:42.25] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.14] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:48.38] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:50.65] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.61] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.17] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.32] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.03] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:05.04] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.36] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:11.17] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:13.30] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:16.69] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.43] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:22.62] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.19] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.68] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:30.91] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:33.81] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:38.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:41.16] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:43.73] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:50.26] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.65] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:01.29] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.17] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.16] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:11.18] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:15.37] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.32] The truth will set you free\n[04:19.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind [iTunes Deluxe Edition] (Explicit)\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 2910\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 2910\n  end_ms: 6610\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6610\n  end_ms: 8620\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8620\n  end_ms: 11630\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 11630\n  end_ms: 14690\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 14690\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18270\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18270\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 23200\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23200\n  end_ms: 27430\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 27430\n  end_ms: 32140\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 32140\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 37490\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 37490\n  end_ms: 40190\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 40190\n  end_ms: 41900\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 41900\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 58470\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58470\n  end_ms: 60840\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 60840\n  end_ms: 64190\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64190\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 71600\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 71600\n  end_ms: 75860\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75860\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81180\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81180\n  end_ms: 83990\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 83990\n  end_ms: 85640\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 85640\n  end_ms: 89210\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 89210\n  end_ms: 91720\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 91720\n  end_ms: 94690\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 94690\n  end_ms: 98810\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 98810\n  end_ms: 100520\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 100520\n  end_ms: 103910\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 103910\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108160\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 108160\n  end_ms: 112000\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112000\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117530\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117530\n  end_ms: 119050\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 119050\n  end_ms: 122030\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 122030\n  end_ms: 130770\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130770\n  end_ms: 136810\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 136810\n  end_ms: 139590\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 139590\n  end_ms: 142460\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 142460\n  end_ms: 145480\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145480\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 154260\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 154260\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 159750\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159750\n  end_ms: 162250\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 162250\n  end_ms: 165140\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165140\n  end_ms: 168380\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 168380\n  end_ms: 170650\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 170650\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 177170\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177170\n  end_ms: 180320\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180320\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 188360\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188360\n  end_ms: 191170\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 191170\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199430\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199430\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205190\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205190\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210910\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 210910\n  end_ms: 213810\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 213810\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 218730\n  end_ms: 221160\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 221160\n  end_ms: 223730\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 223730\n  end_ms: 230260\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 230260\n  end_ms: 238650\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238650\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 257320\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257320\n  end_ms: 259720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259720\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":15840563,"name":"Nobody (feat. French Montana & Diddy)","trackName":"Nobody (feat. French Montana & Diddy)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Hip Hop Is Read Presents The Tape Deck '14: Volume #04","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (feat. French Montana & Diddy)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: 'Hip Hop Is Read Presents The Tape Deck ''14: Volume #04'\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":16201194,"name":"Nobody [feat. French Montana] [Explicit]","trackName":"Nobody [feat. French Montana] [Explicit]","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"Mastermind [Explicit] [+digital booklet]","duration":281.103673,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody [feat. French Montana] [Explicit]\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: Mastermind [Explicit] [+digital booklet]\n  duration_ms: 281104\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":15702095,"name":"Nobody (Feat. French Montana & Diddy)","trackName":"Nobody (Feat. French Montana & Diddy)","artistName":"Rick Ross","albumName":"MasterMind","duration":281.053333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody (Feat. French Montana & Diddy)\n  artist: Rick Ross\n  album: MasterMind\n  duration_ms: 281053\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":32685289,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross, French Montana","albumName":"Mastermind (Deluxe)","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross, French Montana\n  album: Mastermind (Deluxe)\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"},{"id":12474816,"name":"Nobody","trackName":"Nobody","artistName":"Rick Ross, French Montana","albumName":"Mastermind","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\nThese niggas is roaches\nThese niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\nI'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\nYou don't wanna motherfuckin'\nYou don't wanna embrace your destiny\nYou wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\nWhere it's lonely\nYou can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\nOf the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nAnnotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHaving sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\nWhat the fuck is their culture?\nWhere the fuck is their souls at?\nWhat defines you?\nThese niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\nYou wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\nMake up your got damn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine until it's even keel\nLike I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\nMama's tryna save me\nBut she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me\nMan, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck you wanna talk about?\nFuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\nAnd fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\nAnd fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\nNiggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\nYou gotta tell the truth, man\nThe truth'll set you free, son\nThe truth will set you free","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n[00:04.02] These niggas is roaches\n[00:06.18] These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n[00:08.49] I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n[00:13.30] You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n[00:15.03] You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n[00:17.16] You wanna get by\n[00:18.66] You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n[00:22.39] Where it's lonely\n[00:23.22] You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n[00:28.48] Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n[00:33.08] Mama's tryna save me\n[00:35.46] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[00:38.43] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[00:41.13] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[00:43.74] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[00:52.57] Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n[00:58.95] On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n[01:02.19] Drug money, dollar figures\n[01:04.28] Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n[01:07.43] Having sushi down in Nobu\n[01:09.57] Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n[01:13.00] So it's bang, no survivors\n[01:15.37] Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n[01:18.58] Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n[01:21.61] Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n[01:24.47] No wire, on fire\n[01:26.50] My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n[01:30.25] Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n[01:32.34] Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n[01:35.85] Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n[01:40.07] I pray you smoke with me\n[01:41.57] Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n[01:44.24] Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n[01:47.17] Pretty cars in the driveway\n[01:49.27] If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n[01:52.48] Mama's tryna save me\n[01:54.73] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[01:57.73] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[02:00.48] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[02:03.06] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[02:10.42] You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n[02:17.37] What the fuck is their culture?\n[02:20.32] Where the fuck is their souls at?\n[02:23.56] What defines you?\n[02:25.40] These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n[02:30.97] You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n[02:36.13] Make up your got damn mind\n[02:38.06] I'm from where the streets test you\n[02:39.86] Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n[02:43.51] The narcotics is our product\n[02:45.69] The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n[02:49.33] New Mercedes as it peels off\n[02:51.32] Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n[02:54.87] I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n[02:57.12] Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n[03:00.53] The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n[03:03.64] We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n[03:06.33] Chinchillas on a winter night\n[03:08.49] Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n[03:12.09] And I'm never on that tour bus\n[03:14.19] Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n[03:17.96] Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n[03:19.66] My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n[03:23.43] Touch mine until it's even keel\n[03:25.44] Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n[03:28.84] We Magic City of the networks\n[03:31.42] Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n[03:34.27] Mama's tryna save me\n[03:36.68] But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n[03:39.50] Man, them niggas tried to play me\n[03:42.24] Man, 'til I got this paper\n[03:44.80] You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n[03:57.17] Fuck you wanna talk about?\n[03:58.36] Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n[04:02.07] And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n[04:05.77] And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n[04:08.73] Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n[04:13.40] You gotta tell the truth, man\n[04:16.03] The truth'll set you free, son\n[04:17.90] The truth will set you free\n[04:20.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nobody\n  artist: Rick Ross, French Montana\n  album: Mastermind\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 4020\n- text: These niggas is roaches\n  start_ms: 4020\n  end_ms: 6180\n- text: These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  start_ms: 6180\n  end_ms: 8490\n- text: I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  start_ms: 8490\n  end_ms: 13300\n- text: You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  start_ms: 13300\n  end_ms: 15030\n- text: You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 17160\n- text: You wanna get by\n  start_ms: 17160\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 22390\n- text: Where it's lonely\n  start_ms: 22390\n  end_ms: 23220\n- text: You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  start_ms: 23220\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 33080\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 33080\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38430\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 38430\n  end_ms: 41130\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 41130\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 62190\n- text: Drug money, dollar figures\n  start_ms: 62190\n  end_ms: 64280\n- text: Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  start_ms: 64280\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Having sushi down in Nobu\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 69570\n- text: Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  start_ms: 69570\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: So it's bang, no survivors\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 78580\n- text: Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  start_ms: 78580\n  end_ms: 81610\n- text: Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  start_ms: 81610\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: No wire, on fire\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86500\n- text: My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  start_ms: 86500\n  end_ms: 90250\n- text: Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  start_ms: 90250\n  end_ms: 92340\n- text: Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  start_ms: 92340\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 100070\n- text: I pray you smoke with me\n  start_ms: 100070\n  end_ms: 101570\n- text: Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  start_ms: 101570\n  end_ms: 104240\n- text: Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  start_ms: 104240\n  end_ms: 107170\n- text: Pretty cars in the driveway\n  start_ms: 107170\n  end_ms: 109270\n- text: If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n  start_ms: 109270\n  end_ms: 112480\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 112480\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117730\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 117730\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: What the fuck is their culture?\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 140320\n- text: Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  start_ms: 140320\n  end_ms: 143560\n- text: What defines you?\n  start_ms: 143560\n  end_ms: 145400\n- text: These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  start_ms: 145400\n  end_ms: 150970\n- text: You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  start_ms: 150970\n  end_ms: 156130\n- text: Make up your got damn mind\n  start_ms: 156130\n  end_ms: 158060\n- text: I'm from where the streets test you\n  start_ms: 158060\n  end_ms: 159860\n- text: Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  start_ms: 159860\n  end_ms: 163510\n- text: The narcotics is our product\n  start_ms: 163510\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 169330\n- text: New Mercedes as it peels off\n  start_ms: 169330\n  end_ms: 171320\n- text: Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  start_ms: 171320\n  end_ms: 174870\n- text: I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  start_ms: 174870\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183640\n- text: We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  start_ms: 183640\n  end_ms: 186330\n- text: Chinchillas on a winter night\n  start_ms: 186330\n  end_ms: 188490\n- text: Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  start_ms: 188490\n  end_ms: 192090\n- text: And I'm never on that tour bus\n  start_ms: 192090\n  end_ms: 194190\n- text: Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  start_ms: 194190\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 199660\n- text: My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  start_ms: 199660\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Touch mine until it's even keel\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 205440\n- text: Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  start_ms: 205440\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: We Magic City of the networks\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 211420\n- text: Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n  start_ms: 211420\n  end_ms: 214270\n- text: Mama's tryna save me\n  start_ms: 214270\n  end_ms: 216680\n- text: But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  start_ms: 216680\n  end_ms: 219500\n- text: Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  start_ms: 219500\n  end_ms: 222240\n- text: Man, 'til I got this paper\n  start_ms: 222240\n  end_ms: 224800\n- text: You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n  start_ms: 224800\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 238360\n- text: Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  start_ms: 238360\n  end_ms: 242070\n- text: And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  start_ms: 242070\n  end_ms: 245770\n- text: And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  start_ms: 245770\n  end_ms: 248730\n- text: Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  start_ms: 248730\n  end_ms: 253400\n- text: You gotta tell the truth, man\n  start_ms: 253400\n  end_ms: 256030\n- text: The truth'll set you free, son\n  start_ms: 256030\n  end_ms: 257900\n- text: The truth will set you free\n  start_ms: 257900\n  end_ms: 260120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260120\nplain: |-\n  You wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches\n  These niggas is roaches\n  These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals\n  I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'\n  You don't wanna motherfuckin'\n  You don't wanna embrace your destiny\n  You wanna get by\n  You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark\n  Where it's lonely\n  You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain\n  Of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Annotate \"Blast for me\" -- the last words from my nigga\n  On the pavement, born killers, body shivers\n  Drug money, dollar figures\n  Hustlers moving out of rentals, art of war is mental\n  Having sushi down in Nobu\n  Strapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\n  So it's bang, no survivors\n  Only riders on my rider, murder rate rises\n  Stalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\n  Still solo, Under Armour still Polo\n  No wire, on fire\n  My desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\n  Gettin' high feeling like it's voodoo\n  Nine lives, SK with the cooler\n  Makaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\n  I pray you smoke with me\n  Go to bed with a kilo like Casino\n  Janet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\n  Pretty cars in the driveway\n  If you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  You fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas?\n  What the fuck is their culture?\n  Where the fuck is their souls at?\n  What defines you?\n  These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces\n  You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga?\n  Make up your got damn mind\n\n  I'm from where the streets test you\n  Niggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\n  The narcotics is our product\n  The by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\n  New Mercedes as it peels off\n  Nothing penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\n  I said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\n  Never really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\n  The mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\n  We kill 'em and taking their bitches, R.I.P\n  Chinchillas on a winter night\n  Black bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\n  And I'm never on that tour bus\n  Just a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\n  Ciroc boys down to die for Diddy\n  My niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\n  Touch mine until it's even keel\n  Like I'm knowing every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\n  We Magic City of the networks\n  Cut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\n\n  Mama's tryna save me\n  But she don't know I'm tryna save her\n  Man, them niggas tried to play me\n  Man, 'til I got this paper\n  You're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\n  Fuck you wanna talk about?\n  Fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's\n  And fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls\n  And fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got\n  Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga\n  You gotta tell the truth, man\n  The truth'll set you free, son\n  The truth will set you free\n"}]