[{"id":6307734,"name":"In My Blood","trackName":"In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies","duration":301.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nStuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nWould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nAnd fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nBroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nBottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nNot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nX2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 301000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n Stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n Would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n And fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n Broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n Bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n Not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n X2\n"},{"id":18932881,"name":"In My Blood","trackName":"In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies","duration":267.62449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nStuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nWould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nAnd fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nBroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nBottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nNot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nX2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 267624\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n Stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n Would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n And fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n Broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n Bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n Not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n X2\n"},{"id":30814567,"name":"In my blood","trackName":"In my blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My homies disc2","duration":301.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nStuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nWould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nAnd fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nBroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nBottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nNot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nX2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In my blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: My homies disc2\n duration_ms: 301000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n Stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n Would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n And fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n Broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n Bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n Not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n X2\n"},{"id":21634786,"name":"In My Blood","trackName":"In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies (Screwed)","duration":335.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nStuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nWould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nAnd fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nBroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nBottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nNot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nX2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies (Screwed)\n duration_ms: 335000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n Stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n Would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n And fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n Broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n Bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n Not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n X2\n"},{"id":15466181,"name":"In My Blood","trackName":"In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies Disc 2","duration":300.852245,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies Disc 2\n duration_ms: 300852\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":14012225,"name":"06 - In My Blood","trackName":"06 - In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies Disc 2","duration":300.8,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: 06 - In My Blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies Disc 2\n duration_ms: 300800\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":31794363,"name":"In My Blood feat. Big Mike, Yu","trackName":"In My Blood feat. Big Mike, Yu","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies","duration":300.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood feat. Big Mike, Yu\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 300000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":31684098,"name":"in my blood (ft big mike, dmg & yukmouth)","trackName":"in my blood (ft big mike, dmg & yukmouth)","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies","duration":301.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: in my blood (ft big mike, dmg & yukmouth)\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 301000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":16574609,"name":"In My Blood (feat. Big Mike, Dmg & Yukmouth)","trackName":"In My Blood (feat. Big Mike, Dmg & Yukmouth)","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies","duration":301.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood (feat. Big Mike, Dmg & Yukmouth)\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 301000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":18937281,"name":"In My Blood","trackName":"In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"Dopeman Music","duration":235.337143,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nStuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nWould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nAnd fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nBroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nBottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nNot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nX2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood\n artist: Scarface\n album: Dopeman Music\n duration_ms: 235337\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n Stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n Would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n And fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n Broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n Bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n Not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n X2\n"},{"id":33419520,"name":"In My Blood (Ft Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)","trackName":"In My Blood (Ft Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies (CD2)","duration":301.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood (Ft Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies (CD2)\n duration_ms: 301000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":10256798,"name":"In My Blood","trackName":"In My Blood","artistName":"Scarface feat. Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth","albumName":"My Homies","duration":301.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood\n artist: Scarface feat. Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 301000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":32292270,"name":"In My Blood (feat. Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)","trackName":"In My Blood (feat. Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies (screwed & chopped)","duration":335.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood (feat. Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies (screwed & chopped)\n duration_ms: 335000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"},{"id":23646481,"name":"In My Blood (feat Big Mike, DMG and Yukmouth) (Amended LP Version)","trackName":"In My Blood (feat Big Mike, DMG and Yukmouth) (Amended LP Version)","artistName":"Scarface","albumName":"My Homies","duration":301.191837,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You wonder why,\nI hang with these thugs\nWhut,\nI'm from the hood\nNigga,\nI gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\nIt's in my blood\nSince I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\nAnd till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\nSt. Paul in\nThe M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\nI put it down yes\nNow Chris Rock were you at\nI heard you say some shit about some blacks\nNigga, this been your ass back\nCome see the real deal\nStay in the fields Nigga\nThese Niggas will kill\nThis ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\nThis a Glock, pah, pah,\nIt's death on your block\nKnock, knock\nWhut's up Nigga?\nThese sirenes start singing\nIt's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\nIt's stinkin', freakin'\nBowlin' on the weekend\nCreepin, seekin'\nMe, till the currency\nGimme stacks up on mo' stacks\nI'm dubble parked for the train\nEven your moms know my name\nI be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\nAnd I bring the B-O-M-B-?\nNigga\n\nIt's In My Blood\nSmokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\nAnd fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\nYou wonder why us niggas be hustelers\nAnd out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\nThat's In My Blood\n\nThat drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\nAnd make that Nigga bug, Nigga\nIt's In My Blood\nNiggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\nFuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\nIt's in my veins\nLike a chain-reaction\nHow it all happened\nPaps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\nBack in the day when shit was crackin'\nNiggas pay 38 for a package\nTightly rappin'\nFor shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\nThat's where the A-raps headin'\nEven when I sleep they in cavage\nLavage shit\nDo automatics with scopes under my mattress\nWith the dope and the drugmoney,\nstuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\nThug hungry\nTakin' drugs only cause we love money\nI'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\nwould you like to be a Nigga too\nMakin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\nYou probably be a drugdealer too\nScan and tuned in to the boys in blue\nListen for clues\nIn the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\nIt takes\n28 grams\nMultiplied by 36 zips to make\nA triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\nA hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n2.2 pounds to be straight\nMy Niggas just flew in from GA\nReady to buy 4 kilos\nThen drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\nSo fuck these rhymes\nLet me stick my dick in your ear,\nand fuck with your mind\nNigga\n\nNiggas betray themselves as low key,\nbroken down and fabricated\nEasily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\nAin't no wars cause they made it\nThat type of bullshit is outdated\nBut I played it like I laid it\nMy partners have always said that\nIt was set me up\nFor life\nMoney, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\nNothin' nice\nNiggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\nGovernors from strugglers\nBitches lovin' us\nBlindly chasin' that life we lust\nI blush,\nbottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\nGoin' down and roll fast\nTryin' to get what my eyes have seen\nFried of me, huh\nNigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\nBut part not I was blind to the point,\nnot even I could see, or that I could be\nObviously\nI wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\nHit me with the type of mystery\nLay it down like history\nWith the intend of be myself and I\nStreet desire, easila\nPiece of mind, I was least to find\nSome sassiness\nHossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\nNobody was meant for it, it was deadly\nAnd I was discontent\nWith the shit that life once sent\nGovernment depend, now most of my time is spent\nEscapin' what I love\nIt's in my blood\n\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: In My Blood (feat Big Mike, DMG and Yukmouth) (Amended LP Version)\n artist: Scarface\n album: My Homies\n duration_ms: 301192\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n You wonder why,\n I hang with these thugs\n Whut,\n I'm from the hood\n Nigga,\n I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck)\n It's in my blood\n Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas\n And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas\n St. Paul in\n The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin'\n I put it down yes\n Now Chris Rock were you at\n I heard you say some shit about some blacks\n Nigga, this been your ass back\n Come see the real deal\n Stay in the fields Nigga\n These Niggas will kill\n This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga\n This a Glock, pah, pah,\n It's death on your block\n Knock, knock\n Whut's up Nigga?\n These sirenes start singing\n It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin'\n It's stinkin', freakin'\n Bowlin' on the weekend\n Creepin, seekin'\n Me, till the currency\n Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks\n I'm dubble parked for the train\n Even your moms know my name\n I be the D into the M and the M into the G\n\n And I bring the B-O-M-B-?\n Nigga\n\n It's In My Blood\n Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds\n And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n You wonder why us niggas be hustelers\n And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga\n That's In My Blood\n\n That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug\n And make that Nigga bug, Nigga\n It's In My Blood\n Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers\n Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us!\n\n It's in my veins\n Like a chain-reaction\n How it all happened\n Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's\n Back in the day when shit was crackin'\n Niggas pay 38 for a package\n Tightly rappin'\n For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added\n That's where the A-raps headin'\n Even when I sleep they in cavage\n Lavage shit\n Do automatics with scopes under my mattress\n With the dope and the drugmoney,\n stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney\n Thug hungry\n Takin' drugs only cause we love money\n I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga,\n would you like to be a Nigga too\n Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do\n You probably be a drugdealer too\n Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue\n Listen for clues\n In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake\n It takes\n 28 grams\n Multiplied by 36 zips to make\n A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake\n A hundred grams on the triple beam flake\n\n 2.2 pounds to be straight\n My Niggas just flew in from GA\n Ready to buy 4 kilos\n Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio\n So fuck these rhymes\n Let me stick my dick in your ear,\n and fuck with your mind\n Nigga\n\n Niggas betray themselves as low key,\n broken down and fabricated\n Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded\n Ain't no wars cause they made it\n That type of bullshit is outdated\n But I played it like I laid it\n My partners have always said that\n It was set me up\n For life\n Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was\n Nothin' nice\n Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers\n Governors from strugglers\n Bitches lovin' us\n Blindly chasin' that life we lust\n I blush,\n bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams\n Goin' down and roll fast\n Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen\n Fried of me, huh\n Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see\n But part not I was blind to the point,\n not even I could see, or that I could be\n Obviously\n I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery\n\n Hit me with the type of mystery\n Lay it down like history\n With the intend of be myself and I\n Street desire, easila\n Piece of mind, I was least to find\n Some sassiness\n Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist\n Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly\n And I was discontent\n With the shit that life once sent\n Government depend, now most of my time is spent\n Escapin' what I love\n It's in my blood\n\n x2\n"}]