[{"id":28615000,"name":"Church","trackName":"Church","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Jesus Price Supastar","duration":235.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Huh, Y'all ready?\nLet's go\nHuh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\nTommy Tee, yeah, what up?\nAyo, listen\n\nBig word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\nDr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\nStamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\nThrough the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\nExciting, unorthodox biting\nOught to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\nYou got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\nTouch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\nSmack saliva out the side of your face\nI ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\nChoir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\nYeah, all praises due to the rhyme\nY'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\nTwo for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\nYou rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\nNah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\nIn his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\nRebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\nAfter that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\nThey could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\nYou keep on playin', you hear?\n\nYeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\nThe word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\nIt go\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\nOkay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\nA sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n(Windows shot up) In a residential area\nAnd left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\nThis time, it's the principality, punk\nYou a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n(Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\nYeah, pussy, that's you, chump\nAll that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\nYou get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\nAlcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\nWe'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\nNappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\nWhile I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\nChoir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\nHe\nMoves like his cock and he's strong)\nYeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\nThe bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\nNow she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\nShe gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\nY'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\nAnd then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\nSmash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\nYou think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\nTommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\nHeltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\nRock\n\nAnd the fire supply, you forget your squad\nNigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Jesus Price Supastar\n  duration_ms: 235000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Huh, Y'all ready?\n  Let's go\n  Huh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\n  Tommy Tee, yeah, what up?\n  Ayo, listen\n\n  Big word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\n  Dr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\n  Stamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\n  Through the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\n  Exciting, unorthodox biting\n  Ought to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\n  You got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\n  Touch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\n  Smack saliva out the side of your face\n  I ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\n  Choir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\n  Yeah, all praises due to the rhyme\n  Y'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\n  Two for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\n  You rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\n  Nah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\n  In his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\n  Rebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\n  After that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\n  They could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\n  You keep on playin', you hear?\n\n  Yeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\n  The word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\n  It go\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\n  Okay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\n  A sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n  (Windows shot up) In a residential area\n  And left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\n  This time, it's the principality, punk\n  You a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n  (Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\n  Yeah, pussy, that's you, chump\n  All that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\n  You get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\n  Alcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\n  We'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\n  Nappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\n  While I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\n  Choir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\n  He\n  Moves like his cock and he's strong)\n  Yeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\n  The bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\n  Now she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\n  She gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\n  Y'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\n  And then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\n  Smash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\n  You think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\n  Tommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\n  Heltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\n  Rock\n\n  And the fire supply, you forget your squad\n  Nigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n"},{"id":32419847,"name":"Church (instrumental)","trackName":"Church (instrumental)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Jesus Price Supastar (instrumentals)","duration":239.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church (instrumental)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Jesus Price Supastar (instrumentals)\n  duration_ms: 239000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":36613477,"name":"CHURCH Featuring Rock & The Loudmouf Choir \"Church\"","trackName":"CHURCH Featuring Rock & The Loudmouf Choir \"Church\"","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Jesus Price Superstar","duration":235.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Huh, Y'all ready?\nLet's go\nHuh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\nTommy Tee, yeah, what up?\nAyo, listen\n\nBig word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\nDr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\nStamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\nThrough the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\nExciting, unorthodox biting\nOught to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\nYou got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\nTouch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\nSmack saliva out the side of your face\nI ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\nChoir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\nYeah, all praises due to the rhyme\nY'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\nTwo for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\nYou rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\nNah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\nIn his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\nRebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\nAfter that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\nThey could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\nYou keep on playin', you hear?\n\nYeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\nThe word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\nIt go\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\nOkay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\nA sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n(Windows shot up) In a residential area\nAnd left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\nThis time, it's the principality, punk\nYou a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n(Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\nYeah, pussy, that's you, chump\nAll that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\nYou get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\nAlcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\nWe'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\nNappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\nWhile I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\nChoir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\nHe\nMoves like his cock and he's strong)\nYeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\nThe bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\nNow she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\nShe gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\nY'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\nAnd then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\nSmash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\nYou think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\nTommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\nHeltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\nRock\n\nAnd the fire supply, you forget your squad\nNigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: CHURCH Featuring Rock & The Loudmouf Choir \"Church\"\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Jesus Price Superstar\n  duration_ms: 235000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Huh, Y'all ready?\n  Let's go\n  Huh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\n  Tommy Tee, yeah, what up?\n  Ayo, listen\n\n  Big word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\n  Dr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\n  Stamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\n  Through the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\n  Exciting, unorthodox biting\n  Ought to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\n  You got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\n  Touch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\n  Smack saliva out the side of your face\n  I ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\n  Choir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\n  Yeah, all praises due to the rhyme\n  Y'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\n  Two for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\n  You rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\n  Nah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\n  In his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\n  Rebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\n  After that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\n  They could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\n  You keep on playin', you hear?\n\n  Yeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\n  The word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\n  It go\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\n  Okay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\n  A sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n  (Windows shot up) In a residential area\n  And left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\n  This time, it's the principality, punk\n  You a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n  (Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\n  Yeah, pussy, that's you, chump\n  All that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\n  You get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\n  Alcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\n  We'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\n  Nappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\n  While I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\n  Choir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\n  He\n  Moves like his cock and he's strong)\n  Yeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\n  The bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\n  Now she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\n  She gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\n  Y'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\n  And then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\n  Smash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\n  You think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\n  Tommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\n  Heltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\n  Rock\n\n  And the fire supply, you forget your squad\n  Nigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n"},{"id":27658347,"name":"Church [feat. Rock & The Loudmouf Choir 'Church']","trackName":"Church [feat. Rock & The Loudmouf Choir 'Church']","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Jesus Price Supastar","duration":235.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Huh, Y'all ready?\nLet's go\nHuh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\nTommy Tee, yeah, what up?\nAyo, listen\n\nBig word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\nDr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\nStamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\nThrough the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\nExciting, unorthodox biting\nOught to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\nYou got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\nTouch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\nSmack saliva out the side of your face\nI ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\nChoir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\nYeah, all praises due to the rhyme\nY'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\nTwo for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\nYou rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\nNah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\nIn his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\nRebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\nAfter that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\nThey could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\nYou keep on playin', you hear?\n\nYeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\nThe word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\nIt go\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\nOkay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\nA sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n(Windows shot up) In a residential area\nAnd left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\nThis time, it's the principality, punk\nYou a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n(Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\nYeah, pussy, that's you, chump\nAll that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\nYou get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\nAlcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\nWe'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\nNappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\nWhile I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\nChoir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\nHe\nMoves like his cock and he's strong)\nYeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\nThe bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\nNow she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\nShe gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\nY'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\nAnd then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\nSmash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\nYou think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\nTommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\nHeltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\nRock\n\nAnd the fire supply, you forget your squad\nNigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church [feat. Rock & The Loudmouf Choir 'Church']\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Jesus Price Supastar\n  duration_ms: 235000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Huh, Y'all ready?\n  Let's go\n  Huh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\n  Tommy Tee, yeah, what up?\n  Ayo, listen\n\n  Big word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\n  Dr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\n  Stamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\n  Through the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\n  Exciting, unorthodox biting\n  Ought to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\n  You got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\n  Touch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\n  Smack saliva out the side of your face\n  I ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\n  Choir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\n  Yeah, all praises due to the rhyme\n  Y'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\n  Two for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\n  You rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\n  Nah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\n  In his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\n  Rebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\n  After that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\n  They could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\n  You keep on playin', you hear?\n\n  Yeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\n  The word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\n  It go\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\n  Okay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\n  A sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n  (Windows shot up) In a residential area\n  And left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\n  This time, it's the principality, punk\n  You a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n  (Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\n  Yeah, pussy, that's you, chump\n  All that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\n  You get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\n  Alcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\n  We'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\n  Nappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\n  While I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\n  Choir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\n  He\n  Moves like his cock and he's strong)\n  Yeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\n  The bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\n  Now she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\n  She gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\n  Y'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\n  And then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\n  Smash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\n  You think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\n  Tommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\n  Heltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\n  Rock\n\n  And the fire supply, you forget your squad\n  Nigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n"},{"id":32336185,"name":"Church","trackName":"Church","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Rock & The Loudmouf Choir \"Church\"","albumName":"Jesus Price Supastar","duration":235.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Huh, Y'all ready?\nLet's go\nHuh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\nTommy Tee, yeah, what up?\nAyo, listen\n\nBig word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\nDr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\nStamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\nThrough the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\nExciting, unorthodox biting\nOught to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\nYou got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\nTouch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\nSmack saliva out the side of your face\nI ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\nChoir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\nYeah, all praises due to the rhyme\nY'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\nTwo for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\nYou rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\nNah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\nIn his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\nRebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\nAfter that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\nThey could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\nYou keep on playin', you hear?\n\nYeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\nThe word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\nIt go\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\nOkay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\nA sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n(Windows shot up) In a residential area\nAnd left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\nThis time, it's the principality, punk\nYou a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n(Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\nYeah, pussy, that's you, chump\nAll that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\nYou get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\nAlcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\nWe'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\nNappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\nWhile I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\nChoir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\nHe\nMoves like his cock and he's strong)\nYeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\nThe bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\nNow she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\nShe gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\nY'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\nAnd then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\nSmash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\nYou think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\nTommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\nHeltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\nRock\n\nAnd the fire supply, you forget your squad\nNigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Rock & The Loudmouf Choir \"Church\"\n  album: Jesus Price Supastar\n  duration_ms: 235000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Huh, Y'all ready?\n  Let's go\n  Huh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\n  Tommy Tee, yeah, what up?\n  Ayo, listen\n\n  Big word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\n  Dr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\n  Stamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\n  Through the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\n  Exciting, unorthodox biting\n  Ought to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\n  You got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\n  Touch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\n  Smack saliva out the side of your face\n  I ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\n  Choir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\n  Yeah, all praises due to the rhyme\n  Y'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\n  Two for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\n  You rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\n  Nah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\n  In his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\n  Rebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\n  After that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\n  They could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\n  You keep on playin', you hear?\n\n  Yeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\n  The word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\n  It go\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\n  Okay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\n  A sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n  (Windows shot up) In a residential area\n  And left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\n  This time, it's the principality, punk\n  You a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n  (Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\n  Yeah, pussy, that's you, chump\n  All that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\n  You get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\n  Alcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\n  We'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\n  Nappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\n  While I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\n  Choir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\n  He\n  Moves like his cock and he's strong)\n  Yeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\n  The bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\n  Now she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\n  She gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\n  Y'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\n  And then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\n  Smash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\n  You think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\n  Tommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\n  Heltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\n  Rock\n\n  And the fire supply, you forget your squad\n  Nigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n"},{"id":40272655,"name":"Church","trackName":"Church","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Rockness Monsta & The Loudmouf Choir","albumName":"Jesus Price Supastar","duration":235.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Huh, Y'all ready?\nLet's go\nHuh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\nTommy Tee, yeah, what up?\nAyo, listen\n\nBig word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\nDr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\nStamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\nThrough the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\nExciting, unorthodox biting\nOught to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\nYou got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\nTouch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\nSmack saliva out the side of your face\nI ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\nChoir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\nYeah, all praises due to the rhyme\nY'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\nTwo for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\nYou rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\nNah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\nIn his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\nRebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\nAfter that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\nThey could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\nYou keep on playin', you hear?\n\nYeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\nThe word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\nIt go\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\nOkay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\nA sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n(Windows shot up) In a residential area\nAnd left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\nThis time, it's the principality, punk\nYou a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n(Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\nYeah, pussy, that's you, chump\nAll that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\nYou get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\nAlcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\nWe'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\nNappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\nWhile I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\nChoir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\nHe\nMoves like his cock and he's strong)\nYeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\nThe bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\nNow she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\nShe gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\nY'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\nAnd then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\nSmash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\nYou think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\nTommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\nHeltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\nRock\n\nAnd the fire supply, you forget your squad\nNigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Rockness Monsta & The Loudmouf Choir\n  album: Jesus Price Supastar\n  duration_ms: 235333\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Huh, Y'all ready?\n  Let's go\n  Huh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\n  Tommy Tee, yeah, what up?\n  Ayo, listen\n\n  Big word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\n  Dr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\n  Stamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\n  Through the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\n  Exciting, unorthodox biting\n  Ought to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\n  You got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\n  Touch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\n  Smack saliva out the side of your face\n  I ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\n  Choir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\n  Yeah, all praises due to the rhyme\n  Y'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\n  Two for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\n  You rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\n  Nah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\n  In his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\n  Rebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\n  After that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\n  They could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\n  You keep on playin', you hear?\n\n  Yeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\n  The word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\n  It go\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\n  Okay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\n  A sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n  (Windows shot up) In a residential area\n  And left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\n  This time, it's the principality, punk\n  You a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n  (Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\n  Yeah, pussy, that's you, chump\n  All that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\n  You get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\n  Alcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\n  We'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\n  Nappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\n  While I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\n  Choir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\n  He\n  Moves like his cock and he's strong)\n  Yeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\n  The bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\n  Now she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\n  She gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\n  Y'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\n  And then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\n  Smash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\n  You think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\n  Tommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\n  Heltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\n  Rock\n\n  And the fire supply, you forget your squad\n  Nigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n"},{"id":23268083,"name":"Church Bells","trackName":"Church Bells","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":268.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Rastafari-ari\nHaile Selassie eye\nlimit us, oh\nEmpress queen, oh\nAh when the church bell ring\nAnd you hear the fat lady sing\nThem shooters never ever try this again\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, oh\nWhen the church bell ring\nAnd when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\nThem shooters never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\nP too\nScreamin' on the corner like a Hebrew Israelite\nFrightened with the titans\nWolf thug love, niggas is likin' the liken\nBullshit thugs get a knife to your Nike and\nPop your air bubble, yeah niggas don't fear trouble\nUh, the men pop thirty\nOff digital jam, the Hancock Herbie\nGo, P, a thug in his essence\nFuck faggots, unrequited love is the message\nSean poppin' for the nation\nOr pay him, non-non-profit organization\nUh, I beat your ass for free\nThen sip weed grass with Talib Kweli, P\nOh, yes, sing\nAh when the church bell ring\nAnd you hear the fat lady sing\nThem shooters never ever try this again\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, oh\nWhen the church bell ring\nAnd when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\nThem shooters never never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\nNo, no, no, no\nYo, uh, to whom it may concern\nI'm not concerned with whatever this shit may concern\nMy eighth burn in place, your ashes in the urn\nCompassionate with rappin', lot of action with the words\nI'm what you hope to be, vocally\nSocially a misfit, loco with the biscuit\nUh, cry ouch when I enter\nMy GemStar mink your Goose fly for the winter\nNo fashion, a fad\nDrug traffickin', rappin', stashin' the smack in the cab\nAfrican-American, more American than African\nCrackers wanna put me in the box and send me back with them\nTop five, I'm top gun\nRappers all wack with the raps, but not son\nNigga, you fell for the knife's slaughter, fool\nSean cool, in Hell with ice water, P\nAh when the church bell ring\nAnd you hear the fat lady sing\nThem know them shooters never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling\nOh, when the church bell ring\nAnd when the fat lady sing\nThem shooters never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no\nToday we're going to learn how to play the P Chord\nThe first thing you wanna do is get your fingers in this position\nAnd if you lift your middle finger, it becomes a P Minor","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church Bells\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 268000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Rastafari-ari\n  Haile Selassie eye\n  limit us, oh\n  Empress queen, oh\n  Ah when the church bell ring\n  And you hear the fat lady sing\n  Them shooters never ever try this again\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, oh\n  When the church bell ring\n  And when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\n  Them shooters never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\n  P too\n  Screamin' on the corner like a Hebrew Israelite\n  Frightened with the titans\n  Wolf thug love, niggas is likin' the liken\n  Bullshit thugs get a knife to your Nike and\n  Pop your air bubble, yeah niggas don't fear trouble\n  Uh, the men pop thirty\n  Off digital jam, the Hancock Herbie\n  Go, P, a thug in his essence\n  Fuck faggots, unrequited love is the message\n  Sean poppin' for the nation\n  Or pay him, non-non-profit organization\n  Uh, I beat your ass for free\n  Then sip weed grass with Talib Kweli, P\n  Oh, yes, sing\n  Ah when the church bell ring\n  And you hear the fat lady sing\n  Them shooters never ever try this again\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, oh\n  When the church bell ring\n  And when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\n  Them shooters never never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\n  No, no, no, no\n  Yo, uh, to whom it may concern\n  I'm not concerned with whatever this shit may concern\n  My eighth burn in place, your ashes in the urn\n  Compassionate with rappin', lot of action with the words\n  I'm what you hope to be, vocally\n  Socially a misfit, loco with the biscuit\n  Uh, cry ouch when I enter\n  My GemStar mink your Goose fly for the winter\n  No fashion, a fad\n  Drug traffickin', rappin', stashin' the smack in the cab\n  African-American, more American than African\n  Crackers wanna put me in the box and send me back with them\n  Top five, I'm top gun\n  Rappers all wack with the raps, but not son\n  Nigga, you fell for the knife's slaughter, fool\n  Sean cool, in Hell with ice water, P\n  Ah when the church bell ring\n  And you hear the fat lady sing\n  Them know them shooters never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling\n  Oh, when the church bell ring\n  And when the fat lady sing\n  Them shooters never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no\n  Today we're going to learn how to play the P Chord\n  The first thing you wanna do is get your fingers in this position\n  And if you lift your middle finger, it becomes a P Minor\n"},{"id":25681853,"name":"Church Bells","trackName":"Church Bells","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":270.253333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Rastafari-ari\nHaile Selassie eye\nlimit us, oh\nEmpress queen, oh\nAh when the church bell ring\nAnd you hear the fat lady sing\nThem shooters never ever try this again\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, oh\nWhen the church bell ring\nAnd when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\nThem shooters never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\nP too\nScreamin' on the corner like a Hebrew Israelite\nFrightened with the titans\nWolf thug love, niggas is likin' the liken\nBullshit thugs get a knife to your Nike and\nPop your air bubble, yeah niggas don't fear trouble\nUh, the men pop thirty\nOff digital jam, the Hancock Herbie\nGo, P, a thug in his essence\nFuck faggots, unrequited love is the message\nSean poppin' for the nation\nOr pay him, non-non-profit organization\nUh, I beat your ass for free\nThen sip weed grass with Talib Kweli, P\nOh, yes, sing\nAh when the church bell ring\nAnd you hear the fat lady sing\nThem shooters never ever try this again\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, oh\nWhen the church bell ring\nAnd when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\nThem shooters never never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\nNo, no, no, no\nYo, uh, to whom it may concern\nI'm not concerned with whatever this shit may concern\nMy eighth burn in place, your ashes in the urn\nCompassionate with rappin', lot of action with the words\nI'm what you hope to be, vocally\nSocially a misfit, loco with the biscuit\nUh, cry ouch when I enter\nMy GemStar mink your Goose fly for the winter\nNo fashion, a fad\nDrug traffickin', rappin', stashin' the smack in the cab\nAfrican-American, more American than African\nCrackers wanna put me in the box and send me back with them\nTop five, I'm top gun\nRappers all wack with the raps, but not son\nNigga, you fell for the knife's slaughter, fool\nSean cool, in Hell with ice water, P\nAh when the church bell ring\nAnd you hear the fat lady sing\nThem know them shooters never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling\nOh, when the church bell ring\nAnd when the fat lady sing\nThem shooters never mistaken\nMan dead, we shot with fire\nNo start no fling, no\nToday we're going to learn how to play the P Chord\nThe first thing you wanna do is get your fingers in this position\nAnd if you lift your middle finger, it becomes a P Minor","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church Bells\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 270253\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Rastafari-ari\n  Haile Selassie eye\n  limit us, oh\n  Empress queen, oh\n  Ah when the church bell ring\n  And you hear the fat lady sing\n  Them shooters never ever try this again\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, oh\n  When the church bell ring\n  And when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\n  Them shooters never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\n  P too\n  Screamin' on the corner like a Hebrew Israelite\n  Frightened with the titans\n  Wolf thug love, niggas is likin' the liken\n  Bullshit thugs get a knife to your Nike and\n  Pop your air bubble, yeah niggas don't fear trouble\n  Uh, the men pop thirty\n  Off digital jam, the Hancock Herbie\n  Go, P, a thug in his essence\n  Fuck faggots, unrequited love is the message\n  Sean poppin' for the nation\n  Or pay him, non-non-profit organization\n  Uh, I beat your ass for free\n  Then sip weed grass with Talib Kweli, P\n  Oh, yes, sing\n  Ah when the church bell ring\n  And you hear the fat lady sing\n  Them shooters never ever try this again\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, oh\n  When the church bell ring\n  And when the fat lady sing, oh, oh\n  Them shooters never never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no, no, no, no, no\n  No, no, no, no\n  Yo, uh, to whom it may concern\n  I'm not concerned with whatever this shit may concern\n  My eighth burn in place, your ashes in the urn\n  Compassionate with rappin', lot of action with the words\n  I'm what you hope to be, vocally\n  Socially a misfit, loco with the biscuit\n  Uh, cry ouch when I enter\n  My GemStar mink your Goose fly for the winter\n  No fashion, a fad\n  Drug traffickin', rappin', stashin' the smack in the cab\n  African-American, more American than African\n  Crackers wanna put me in the box and send me back with them\n  Top five, I'm top gun\n  Rappers all wack with the raps, but not son\n  Nigga, you fell for the knife's slaughter, fool\n  Sean cool, in Hell with ice water, P\n  Ah when the church bell ring\n  And you hear the fat lady sing\n  Them know them shooters never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling\n  Oh, when the church bell ring\n  And when the fat lady sing\n  Them shooters never mistaken\n  Man dead, we shot with fire\n  No start no fling, no\n  Today we're going to learn how to play the P Chord\n  The first thing you wanna do is get your fingers in this position\n  And if you lift your middle finger, it becomes a P Minor\n"},{"id":28901293,"name":"Church (Feat. Rock & the Loudmouf Choir)","trackName":"Church (Feat. Rock & the Loudmouf Choir)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Gorilla","duration":235.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Huh, Y'all ready?\nLet's go\nHuh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\nTommy Tee, yeah, what up?\nAyo, listen\n\nBig word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\nDr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\nStamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\nThrough the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\nExciting, unorthodox biting\nOught to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\nYou got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\nTouch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\nSmack saliva out the side of your face\nI ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\nChoir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\nYeah, all praises due to the rhyme\nY'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\nTwo for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\nYou rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\nNah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\nIn his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\nRebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\nAfter that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\nThey could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\nYou keep on playin', you hear?\n\nYeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\nThe word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\nIt go\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\nOkay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\nA sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n(Windows shot up) In a residential area\nAnd left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\nThis time, it's the principality, punk\nYou a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n(Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\nYeah, pussy, that's you, chump\nAll that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\nYou get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\nAlcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\nWe'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\nNappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\nWhile I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\nChoir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\nHe\nMoves like his cock and he's strong)\nYeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\nThe bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\nNow she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\nShe gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\nY'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\nAnd then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\nSmash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\nYou think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\nTommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\nHeltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\nRock\n\nAnd the fire supply, you forget your squad\nNigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs\nOops upside your head\nWe smackin' hoops upside your head\nYou wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\nYou eat soup with the noodles and eggs","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Church (Feat. Rock & the Loudmouf Choir)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Gorilla\n  duration_ms: 235000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Huh, Y'all ready?\n  Let's go\n  Huh, Loud Mouth Choir, Heltah Skeltah\n  Tommy Tee, yeah, what up?\n  Ayo, listen\n\n  Big word halitosis, multiple scoliosis\n  Dr. Kill, givin' the rap dosage, postage\n  Stamped, signed, sealed, delivered, distributed\n  Through the hood, motherfucker, what's good?\n  Exciting, unorthodox biting\n  Ought to stop fighting, fuck it, now I'm forced to box\n  You got twenty-two tattoos, you two pack a tad too much\n  Touch like 2Pac, dude that sucks\n  Smack saliva out the side of your face\n  I ain't trying to be rude but, dude, you food so I gotta make grace\n  Choir (Jesus Christ, nice all the time)\n  Yeah, all praises due to the rhyme\n  Y'all niggas is foul, fuck it, Sean'll shoot two from the line\n  Two for the nine, I'll leave lead in your jaw\n  You rock, these niggas ain't ready for war, let 'em know\n\n  Nah, nigga, these rookies ain't ready for retard-cation\n  In his realest form, and rappin' is streetcar racin'\n  Rebellious rhetoric, heat start blazin'\n  After that, I need caucasians in the streets all tapin' shit up\n  They could be trying to piece y'all faces back together\n  You keep on playin', you hear?\n\n  Yeah, the Loud Mouth Choir, Luger liftin' the dame\n  The word-a-matician magician, David Blaine-in' your chain\n  It go\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n\n  Okay, new words, respeconize my gangstafication and G-dential\n  A sket'll fire, bangin' your face through your Jeep window\n  (Windows shot up) In a residential area\n  And left fuckin' ocean in cement shoes\n  This time, it's the principality, punk\n  You a point to prove, put the pistol back, you's a punk\n  (Push your shit all the way off) A producer, para-loser\n  Yeah, pussy, that's you, chump\n  All that yackety-yackin', your teeth with an animal beak\n  You get your ass beat badly, brattlingly\n  Alcatraz and The Beastmaster, take a stab at me\n  We'll counter red dots on your face like bad acne\n  Nappy piece to be prayin' for y'all niggas\n  While I'm gettin' my vulture on, breakin' on y'all bitches\n  Choir (Rock, Rock, Rock 'n' Roll\n  He\n  Moves like his cock and he's strong)\n  Yeah, that's how I got my Bronx bitch, she breakdance and bomb trains\n  The bitch be pop lockin' while givin' me bomb brain\n  Now she's a crumb banger and she go all ways\n  She gon' go where I say, she know where y'all stay, suckers\n\n  Y'all niggas ready to die? Blast a sket\n  And then you realize ain't no fuckin' life after death\n  Smash your chest with a fuckin' medicine ball\n  You think you nice but I'm better than y'all, listen\n  Tommy Tee on the beat, Loud Mouth is the choir\n  Heltah Skeltah on the job and you fuckers is fired\n  Rock\n\n  And the fire supply, you forget your squad\n  Nigga, I'm dope like the tits on Oz, get your nod on\n\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n  Oops upside your head\n  We smackin' hoops upside your head\n  You wear a suit and a tie when you're dead\n  You eat soup with the noodles and eggs\n"}]