[{"id":22107685,"name":"Cession At Da Doghillee","trackName":"Cession At Da Doghillee","artistName":"Smif-N-Wessun","albumName":"Smif-N-Wessun","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Download the Android app\n\nGENIUS\n\nSIGN UP\n\nCession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\nI flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\nEase back, fo' I squeeze that\nWe don't need that, do we, do we?\nRap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\nDo we, have to result in fisticuffs?\nSee I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not, of what I am, and what I do\nJust recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny MC gon' try?\nFifty mc, forty of dem done die\nRun wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\nEverybody knows, where my notty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\nI, waste no time, when I move mine\nGrab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nFuck wit my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, the night, who roll the tight\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack MC's, have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\nI break ya whole fuckin crew in half\nFeel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\nWontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\nSigned on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\nI beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be droopin\nTrademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\nHoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\nCuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\nWit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the worrior, I me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\nWit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\nOf corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\nWe gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\nFlowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\nYo thoughts smell, violator to the left\nFour slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\nFuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch Wreck, and back to the set\nWhere all them rules, them cock in check\n\nAll up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\nComin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\nIf not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\nAnd what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\nTek, and we askin, we blastin\nNow from this you might think the Steele is trife\nI earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\nI'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\nCuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\nFor you and get praise due to the father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\nThe wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fuckin wit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At Da Doghillee\n  artist: Smif-N-Wessun\n  album: Smif-N-Wessun\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Download the Android app\n\n  GENIUS\n\n  SIGN UP\n\n  Cession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\n  I flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\n  Ease back, fo' I squeeze that\n  We don't need that, do we, do we?\n  Rap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\n  Do we, have to result in fisticuffs?\n  See I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not, of what I am, and what I do\n  Just recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny MC gon' try?\n  Fifty mc, forty of dem done die\n  Run wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\n  Everybody knows, where my notty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\n  I, waste no time, when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Fuck wit my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, the night, who roll the tight\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack MC's, have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break ya whole fuckin crew in half\n  Feel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\n  Wontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\n  Signed on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be droopin\n  Trademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\n  Hoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\n  Cuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\n  Wit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the worrior, I me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\n  Wit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\n  Of corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\n  We gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\n  Flowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\n  Yo thoughts smell, violator to the left\n  Four slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\n  Fuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch Wreck, and back to the set\n  Where all them rules, them cock in check\n\n  All up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\n  Comin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\n  If not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\n  And what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\n  Tek, and we askin, we blastin\n  Now from this you might think the Steele is trife\n  I earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\n  I'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\n  Cuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\n  For you and get praise due to the father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\n  The wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fuckin wit\n"},{"id":649804,"name":"Cession At Da Doghillee","trackName":"Cession At Da Doghillee","artistName":"Smif-N-Wessun","albumName":"Da Shinin'","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Download the Android app\n\nGENIUS\n\nSIGN UP\n\nCession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\nI flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\nEase back, fo' I squeeze that\nWe don't need that, do we, do we?\nRap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\nDo we, have to result in fisticuffs?\nSee I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not, of what I am, and what I do\nJust recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny MC gon' try?\nFifty mc, forty of dem done die\nRun wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\nEverybody knows, where my notty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\nI, waste no time, when I move mine\nGrab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nFuck wit my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, the night, who roll the tight\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack MC's, have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\nI break ya whole fuckin crew in half\nFeel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\nWontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\nSigned on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\nI beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be droopin\nTrademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\nHoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\nCuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\nWit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the worrior, I me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\nWit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\nOf corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\nWe gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\nFlowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\nYo thoughts smell, violator to the left\nFour slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\nFuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch Wreck, and back to the set\nWhere all them rules, them cock in check\n\nAll up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\nComin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\nIf not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\nAnd what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\nTek, and we askin, we blastin\nNow from this you might think the Steele is trife\nI earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\nI'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\nCuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\nFor you and get praise due to the father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\nThe wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fuckin wit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At Da Doghillee\n  artist: Smif-N-Wessun\n  album: Da Shinin'\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Download the Android app\n\n  GENIUS\n\n  SIGN UP\n\n  Cession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\n  I flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\n  Ease back, fo' I squeeze that\n  We don't need that, do we, do we?\n  Rap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\n  Do we, have to result in fisticuffs?\n  See I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not, of what I am, and what I do\n  Just recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny MC gon' try?\n  Fifty mc, forty of dem done die\n  Run wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\n  Everybody knows, where my notty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\n  I, waste no time, when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Fuck wit my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, the night, who roll the tight\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack MC's, have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break ya whole fuckin crew in half\n  Feel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\n  Wontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\n  Signed on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be droopin\n  Trademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\n  Hoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\n  Cuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\n  Wit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the worrior, I me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\n  Wit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\n  Of corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\n  We gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\n  Flowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\n  Yo thoughts smell, violator to the left\n  Four slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\n  Fuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch Wreck, and back to the set\n  Where all them rules, them cock in check\n\n  All up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\n  Comin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\n  If not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\n  And what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\n  Tek, and we askin, we blastin\n  Now from this you might think the Steele is trife\n  I earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\n  I'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\n  Cuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\n  For you and get praise due to the father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\n  The wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fuckin wit\n"},{"id":649803,"name":"Cession At da Doghillee","trackName":"Cession At da Doghillee","artistName":"Smif-N-Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin'","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Download the Android app\n\nGENIUS\n\nSIGN UP\n\nCession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\nI flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\nEase back, fo' I squeeze that\nWe don't need that, do we, do we?\nRap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\nDo we, have to result in fisticuffs?\nSee I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not, of what I am, and what I do\nJust recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny MC gon' try?\nFifty mc, forty of dem done die\nRun wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\nEverybody knows, where my notty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\nI, waste no time, when I move mine\nGrab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nFuck wit my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, the night, who roll the tight\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack MC's, have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\nI break ya whole fuckin crew in half\nFeel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\nWontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\nSigned on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\nI beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be droopin\nTrademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\nHoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\nCuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\nWit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the worrior, I me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\nWit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\nOf corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\nWe gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\nFlowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\nYo thoughts smell, violator to the left\nFour slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\nFuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch Wreck, and back to the set\nWhere all them rules, them cock in check\n\nAll up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\nComin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\nIf not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\nAnd what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\nTek, and we askin, we blastin\nNow from this you might think the Steele is trife\nI earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\nI'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\nCuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\nFor you and get praise due to the father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\nThe wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fuckin wit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At da Doghillee\n  artist: Smif-N-Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin'\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Download the Android app\n\n  GENIUS\n\n  SIGN UP\n\n  Cession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\n  I flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\n  Ease back, fo' I squeeze that\n  We don't need that, do we, do we?\n  Rap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\n  Do we, have to result in fisticuffs?\n  See I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not, of what I am, and what I do\n  Just recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny MC gon' try?\n  Fifty mc, forty of dem done die\n  Run wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\n  Everybody knows, where my notty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\n  I, waste no time, when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Fuck wit my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, the night, who roll the tight\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack MC's, have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break ya whole fuckin crew in half\n  Feel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\n  Wontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\n  Signed on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be droopin\n  Trademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\n  Hoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\n  Cuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\n  Wit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the worrior, I me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\n  Wit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\n  Of corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\n  We gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\n  Flowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\n  Yo thoughts smell, violator to the left\n  Four slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\n  Fuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch Wreck, and back to the set\n  Where all them rules, them cock in check\n\n  All up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\n  Comin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\n  If not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\n  And what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\n  Tek, and we askin, we blastin\n  Now from this you might think the Steele is trife\n  I earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\n  I'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\n  Cuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\n  For you and get praise due to the father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\n  The wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fuckin wit\n"},{"id":29612092,"name":"Cession At Da Doghillee","trackName":"Cession At Da Doghillee","artistName":"Smif‐n‐Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin' (30th Anniversary Edition)","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ahem\nFuckin pockets man\nFuckin pockets\nShuckin and duckin\nCuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\nI flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\nBeeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\nDo we, do we? Rap-style dookie\nA Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\nDo we have to result in fisticuffs\nSee, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not of what I am and what I do\nJust recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny emcee gon' try\nFifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\nRun with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\nEverybody knows, when my knotty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\nI waste no time when I move mine\nGrab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack emcees have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\nI break your whole fucking crew in half\nFeel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\nTime for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\nSigned on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (Why)\nBecause I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringing forth Heltah Skeltah\nBe the big Rock, God help ya\nI beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be trooping\nTrademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\nHooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\nMug\nCuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\nRoam in the streets with my chrome\nI'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the warrior I, me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun coming through\nStomping out all you wack rappers\nWith the crazy dread\nThe mad boy head's fed\nOf corny shit that's said\nSo now you bleed like your man bled\nWe're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\nFlowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\nYour thoughts smell. Violators to the left\nFour slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it\nAbort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\nFuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp\nIndustry we break down\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P D-O-G\nOr my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch wreck, get back to the set\nWhere all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\nAll up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\nComing through with my wrecking crew\nSo I reckon you keep it real, If not\nI'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\nGlocks\nAnd whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\nN-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you're petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said\nWe're dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect\nI wreck a set with a Tek\nAnd we ain't asking, we blasting\nNow, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\nI earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife to cut you loose\nI'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we see very clearly\nSo step up to the front cuz this is where we\nRepresent on the lovely for you\nAnd give praise due to the Father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\nThe backs off the wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIndustry we break down","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At Da Doghillee\n  artist: Smif‐n‐Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin' (30th Anniversary Edition)\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ahem\n  Fuckin pockets man\n  Fuckin pockets\n  Shuckin and duckin\n  Cuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\n  I flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\n  Beeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\n  Do we, do we? Rap-style dookie\n  A Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\n  Do we have to result in fisticuffs\n  See, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not of what I am and what I do\n  Just recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny emcee gon' try\n  Fifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\n  Run with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\n  Everybody knows, when my knotty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\n  I waste no time when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack emcees have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break your whole fucking crew in half\n  Feel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\n  Time for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\n  Signed on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (Why)\n  Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringing forth Heltah Skeltah\n  Be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be trooping\n  Trademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\n  Hooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\n  Mug\n  Cuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\n  Roam in the streets with my chrome\n  I'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the warrior I, me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun coming through\n  Stomping out all you wack rappers\n  With the crazy dread\n  The mad boy head's fed\n  Of corny shit that's said\n  So now you bleed like your man bled\n  We're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\n  Flowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\n  Your thoughts smell. Violators to the left\n  Four slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it\n  Abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\n  Fuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp\n  Industry we break down\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P D-O-G\n  Or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch wreck, get back to the set\n  Where all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\n  All up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\n  Coming through with my wrecking crew\n  So I reckon you keep it real, If not\n  I'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\n  Glocks\n  And whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\n  N-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you're petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said\n  We're dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect\n  I wreck a set with a Tek\n  And we ain't asking, we blasting\n  Now, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\n  I earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife to cut you loose\n  I'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we see very clearly\n  So step up to the front cuz this is where we\n  Represent on the lovely for you\n  And give praise due to the Father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\n  The backs off the wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  Industry we break down\n"},{"id":26529684,"name":"Cession At Da Doghillee","trackName":"Cession At Da Doghillee","artistName":"Smif-N-Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin' (30th Anniversary Edition)","duration":326.226667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Download the Android app\n\nGENIUS\n\nSIGN UP\n\nCession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\nI flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\nEase back, fo' I squeeze that\nWe don't need that, do we, do we?\nRap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\nDo we, have to result in fisticuffs?\nSee I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not, of what I am, and what I do\nJust recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny MC gon' try?\nFifty mc, forty of dem done die\nRun wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\nEverybody knows, where my notty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\nI, waste no time, when I move mine\nGrab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nFuck wit my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, the night, who roll the tight\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack MC's, have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\nI break ya whole fuckin crew in half\nFeel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\nWontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\nSigned on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\nI beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be droopin\nTrademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\nHoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\nCuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\nWit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the worrior, I me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\nWit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\nOf corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\nWe gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\nFlowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\nYo thoughts smell, violator to the left\nFour slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\nFuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\nBoot Camp, survivin the preview and\nComin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch Wreck, and back to the set\nWhere all them rules, them cock in check\n\nAll up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\nComin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\nIf not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\nAnd what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\nTek, and we askin, we blastin\nNow from this you might think the Steele is trife\nI earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\nI'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\nCuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\nFor you and get praise due to the father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\nThe wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fuckin wit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At Da Doghillee\n  artist: Smif-N-Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin' (30th Anniversary Edition)\n  duration_ms: 326227\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Download the Android app\n\n  GENIUS\n\n  SIGN UP\n\n  Cession at Da DoghilleeSmif-n-WessunFrom Smif-n-Wessun's debut album, Dah Shinin', the first Boot Camp Clik posse track. This song takes its name from the Clik's recording studio.\n\n  I flow fluidly, though I be the being of your bee's wax\n  Ease back, fo' I squeeze that\n  We don't need that, do we, do we?\n  Rap style, groupie, a dog like Tin, that's why you scared to step to me\n  Do we, have to result in fisticuffs?\n  See I get swifter myself, that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not, of what I am, and what I do\n  Just recognize when im on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny MC gon' try?\n  Fifty mc, forty of dem done die\n  Run wit Heltah Skeltah, through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'mma let the 4-4 bark\n  Everybody knows, where my notty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon, and start steppin on toes\n  I, waste no time, when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock, and then I clear the stuff, like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Fuck wit my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, the night, who roll the tight\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack MC's, have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears, and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break ya whole fuckin crew in half\n  Feel the wrath, as the gun cappaz clap that ass\n  Wontime, for ya mind, hit that ass color blind\n  Signed on the dotted line, it's how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (why?) Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringin forth Heltah Skeltah, be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beat more ass, then Mom dukes leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be droopin\n  Trademark be bootin, baggin pants roopin\n  Hoopin and hollerin, nigga shut ya mug\n  Cuz I might have ya swallowin, a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged and my dome piece, roam in the streets\n  Wit my chrome, I'mma blast it, my caps magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the worrior, I me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, the Gunn da Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun comin thru stompin out all you wack rappers\n  Wit the crazy dred, the mad boy head fed\n  Of corny shit that said, so now you bleed like your man bled\n  We gettin twisted as our Timb's cover pavement\n  Flowin state to state, pickin up the next payment\n  Yo thoughts smell, violator to the left\n  Four slugs hit them chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it, abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, and ya meant up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that?\n  Fuck wit my Boot Camp, and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck wit my Boot Camp?\n  Boot Camp, survivin the preview and\n  Comin through, representin Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of ya niggas be tryin to pull the trigga\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch Wreck, and back to the set\n  Where all them rules, them cock in check\n\n  All up in ya muthafuckin grill, I be Steele\n  Comin through wit my Wreckin Crew, so I reckon you keep it real\n  If not, I'm blowin spots, on whoever be showin Glocks\n  And what nots, walkin around fakin mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G., breakin' up N-I-double G-A'z wit' that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said, we dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect, I reck a set wit a\n  Tek, and we askin, we blastin\n  Now from this you might think the Steele is trife\n  I earn my strife, cuz I deal wit the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife, to cut you loose\n  I'm not ruthless, but you get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we, see very clearly, so step up to the front\n  Cuz this is where we, represent on the lovely\n  For you and get praise due to the father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack, or, when we take the backs off\n  The wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all that's it, strictly the bumpin shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fuckin wit\n"},{"id":29247311,"name":"Cession at da Doghillee","trackName":"Cession at da Doghillee","artistName":"Smif‐n‐Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin’","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ahem\nFuckin pockets man\nFuckin pockets\nShuckin and duckin\nCuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\nI flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\nBeeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\nDo we, do we? Rap-style dookie\nA Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\nDo we have to result in fisticuffs\nSee, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not of what I am and what I do\nJust recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny emcee gon' try\nFifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\nRun with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\nEverybody knows, when my knotty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\nI waste no time when I move mine\nGrab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack emcees have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\nI break your whole fucking crew in half\nFeel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\nTime for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\nSigned on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (Why)\nBecause I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringing forth Heltah Skeltah\nBe the big Rock, God help ya\nI beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be trooping\nTrademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\nHooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\nMug\nCuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\nRoam in the streets with my chrome\nI'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the warrior I, me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun coming through\nStomping out all you wack rappers\nWith the crazy dread\nThe mad boy head's fed\nOf corny shit that's said\nSo now you bleed like your man bled\nWe're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\nFlowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\nYour thoughts smell. Violators to the left\nFour slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it\nAbort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\nFuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp\nIndustry we break down\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P D-O-G\nOr my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch wreck, get back to the set\nWhere all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\nAll up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\nComing through with my wrecking crew\nSo I reckon you keep it real, If not\nI'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\nGlocks\nAnd whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\nN-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you're petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said\nWe're dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect\nI wreck a set with a Tek\nAnd we ain't asking, we blasting\nNow, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\nI earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife to cut you loose\nI'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we see very clearly\nSo step up to the front cuz this is where we\nRepresent on the lovely for you\nAnd give praise due to the Father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\nThe backs off the wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIndustry we break down","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession at da Doghillee\n  artist: Smif‐n‐Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin’\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ahem\n  Fuckin pockets man\n  Fuckin pockets\n  Shuckin and duckin\n  Cuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\n  I flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\n  Beeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\n  Do we, do we? Rap-style dookie\n  A Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\n  Do we have to result in fisticuffs\n  See, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not of what I am and what I do\n  Just recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny emcee gon' try\n  Fifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\n  Run with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\n  Everybody knows, when my knotty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\n  I waste no time when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack emcees have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break your whole fucking crew in half\n  Feel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\n  Time for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\n  Signed on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (Why)\n  Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringing forth Heltah Skeltah\n  Be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be trooping\n  Trademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\n  Hooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\n  Mug\n  Cuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\n  Roam in the streets with my chrome\n  I'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the warrior I, me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun coming through\n  Stomping out all you wack rappers\n  With the crazy dread\n  The mad boy head's fed\n  Of corny shit that's said\n  So now you bleed like your man bled\n  We're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\n  Flowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\n  Your thoughts smell. Violators to the left\n  Four slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it\n  Abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\n  Fuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp\n  Industry we break down\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P D-O-G\n  Or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch wreck, get back to the set\n  Where all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\n  All up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\n  Coming through with my wrecking crew\n  So I reckon you keep it real, If not\n  I'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\n  Glocks\n  And whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\n  N-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you're petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said\n  We're dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect\n  I wreck a set with a Tek\n  And we ain't asking, we blasting\n  Now, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\n  I earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife to cut you loose\n  I'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we see very clearly\n  So step up to the front cuz this is where we\n  Represent on the lovely for you\n  And give praise due to the Father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\n  The backs off the wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  Industry we break down\n"},{"id":31345804,"name":"Cession At Da Doghillee (LP Version)","trackName":"Cession At Da Doghillee (LP Version)","artistName":"Smif-n-Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin'","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ahem\nFuckin pockets man\nFuckin pockets\nShuckin and duckin\nCuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\nI flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\nBeeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\nDo we, do we? Rap-style dookie\nA Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\nDo we have to result in fisticuffs\nSee, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not of what I am and what I do\nJust recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny emcee gon' try\nFifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\nRun with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\nEverybody knows, when my knotty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\nI waste no time when I move mine\nGrab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack emcees have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\nI break your whole fucking crew in half\nFeel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\nTime for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\nSigned on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (Why)\nBecause I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringing forth Heltah Skeltah\nBe the big Rock, God help ya\nI beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be trooping\nTrademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\nHooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\nMug\nCuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\nRoam in the streets with my chrome\nI'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the warrior I, me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun coming through\nStomping out all you wack rappers\nWith the crazy dread\nThe mad boy head's fed\nOf corny shit that's said\nSo now you bleed like your man bled\nWe're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\nFlowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\nYour thoughts smell. Violators to the left\nFour slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it\nAbort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\nFuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp\nIndustry we break down\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P D-O-G\nOr my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch wreck, get back to the set\nWhere all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\nAll up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\nComing through with my wrecking crew\nSo I reckon you keep it real, If not\nI'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\nGlocks\nAnd whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\nN-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you're petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said\nWe're dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect\nI wreck a set with a Tek\nAnd we ain't asking, we blasting\nNow, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\nI earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife to cut you loose\nI'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we see very clearly\nSo step up to the front cuz this is where we\nRepresent on the lovely for you\nAnd give praise due to the Father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\nThe backs off the wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIndustry we break down","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At Da Doghillee (LP Version)\n  artist: Smif-n-Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin'\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ahem\n  Fuckin pockets man\n  Fuckin pockets\n  Shuckin and duckin\n  Cuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\n  I flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\n  Beeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\n  Do we, do we? Rap-style dookie\n  A Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\n  Do we have to result in fisticuffs\n  See, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not of what I am and what I do\n  Just recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny emcee gon' try\n  Fifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\n  Run with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\n  Everybody knows, when my knotty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\n  I waste no time when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack emcees have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break your whole fucking crew in half\n  Feel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\n  Time for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\n  Signed on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (Why)\n  Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringing forth Heltah Skeltah\n  Be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be trooping\n  Trademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\n  Hooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\n  Mug\n  Cuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\n  Roam in the streets with my chrome\n  I'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the warrior I, me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun coming through\n  Stomping out all you wack rappers\n  With the crazy dread\n  The mad boy head's fed\n  Of corny shit that's said\n  So now you bleed like your man bled\n  We're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\n  Flowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\n  Your thoughts smell. Violators to the left\n  Four slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it\n  Abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\n  Fuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp\n  Industry we break down\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P D-O-G\n  Or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch wreck, get back to the set\n  Where all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\n  All up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\n  Coming through with my wrecking crew\n  So I reckon you keep it real, If not\n  I'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\n  Glocks\n  And whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\n  N-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you're petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said\n  We're dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect\n  I wreck a set with a Tek\n  And we ain't asking, we blasting\n  Now, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\n  I earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife to cut you loose\n  I'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we see very clearly\n  So step up to the front cuz this is where we\n  Represent on the lovely for you\n  And give praise due to the Father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\n  The backs off the wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  Industry we break down\n"},{"id":28116354,"name":"Cession at Da Doghillee (Feat. Heltah Skeltah, Buckshot, O.G.C.)","trackName":"Cession at Da Doghillee (Feat. Heltah Skeltah, Buckshot, O.G.C.)","artistName":"Smif-N-Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ahem\nFuckin pockets man\nFuckin pockets\nShuckin and duckin\nCuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\nI flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\nBeeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\nDo we, do we? Rap-style dookie\nA Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\nDo we have to result in fisticuffs\nSee, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not of what I am and what I do\nJust recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny emcee gon' try\nFifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\nRun with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\nEverybody knows, when my knotty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\nI waste no time when I move mine\nGrab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack emcees have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\nI break your whole fucking crew in half\nFeel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\nTime for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\nSigned on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (Why)\nBecause I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringing forth Heltah Skeltah\nBe the big Rock, God help ya\nI beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be trooping\nTrademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\nHooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\nMug\nCuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\nRoam in the streets with my chrome\nI'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the warrior I, me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun coming through\nStomping out all you wack rappers\nWith the crazy dread\nThe mad boy head's fed\nOf corny shit that's said\nSo now you bleed like your man bled\nWe're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\nFlowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\nYour thoughts smell. Violators to the left\nFour slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it\nAbort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\nFuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp\nIndustry we break down\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P D-O-G\nOr my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch wreck, get back to the set\nWhere all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\nAll up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\nComing through with my wrecking crew\nSo I reckon you keep it real, If not\nI'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\nGlocks\nAnd whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\nN-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you're petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said\nWe're dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect\nI wreck a set with a Tek\nAnd we ain't asking, we blasting\nNow, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\nI earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife to cut you loose\nI'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we see very clearly\nSo step up to the front cuz this is where we\nRepresent on the lovely for you\nAnd give praise due to the Father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\nThe backs off the wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIndustry we break down","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession at Da Doghillee (Feat. Heltah Skeltah, Buckshot, O.G.C.)\n  artist: Smif-N-Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ahem\n  Fuckin pockets man\n  Fuckin pockets\n  Shuckin and duckin\n  Cuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\n  I flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\n  Beeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\n  Do we, do we? Rap-style dookie\n  A Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\n  Do we have to result in fisticuffs\n  See, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not of what I am and what I do\n  Just recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny emcee gon' try\n  Fifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\n  Run with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\n  Everybody knows, when my knotty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\n  I waste no time when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack emcees have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break your whole fucking crew in half\n  Feel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\n  Time for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\n  Signed on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (Why)\n  Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringing forth Heltah Skeltah\n  Be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be trooping\n  Trademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\n  Hooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\n  Mug\n  Cuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\n  Roam in the streets with my chrome\n  I'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the warrior I, me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun coming through\n  Stomping out all you wack rappers\n  With the crazy dread\n  The mad boy head's fed\n  Of corny shit that's said\n  So now you bleed like your man bled\n  We're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\n  Flowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\n  Your thoughts smell. Violators to the left\n  Four slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it\n  Abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\n  Fuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp\n  Industry we break down\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P D-O-G\n  Or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch wreck, get back to the set\n  Where all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\n  All up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\n  Coming through with my wrecking crew\n  So I reckon you keep it real, If not\n  I'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\n  Glocks\n  And whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\n  N-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you're petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said\n  We're dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect\n  I wreck a set with a Tek\n  And we ain't asking, we blasting\n  Now, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\n  I earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife to cut you loose\n  I'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we see very clearly\n  So step up to the front cuz this is where we\n  Represent on the lovely for you\n  And give praise due to the Father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\n  The backs off the wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  Industry we break down\n"},{"id":40003774,"name":"Cession At Da Doghillee Feat. Buckshot, Heltah Skeltah, O.G.C.","trackName":"Cession At Da Doghillee Feat. Buckshot, Heltah Skeltah, O.G.C.","artistName":"Smif-N-Wessun","albumName":"Dah Shinin'","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ahem\nFuckin pockets man\nFuckin pockets\nShuckin and duckin\nCuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\nI flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\nBeeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\nDo we, do we? Rap-style dookie\nA Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\nDo we have to result in fisticuffs\nSee, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\nSo think not of what I am and what I do\nJust recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\nHow many corny emcee gon' try\nFifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\nRun with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\nIf a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\nEverybody knows, when my knotty head grows\nI turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\nI waste no time when I move mine\nGrab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIn the night, who roll tight\n\nWack emcees have best to beware\nThat I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\nI break your whole fucking crew in half\nFeel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\nTime for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\nSigned on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\nReality hit me at some degrees\nNow my eyes bleed (Why)\nBecause I just smoked a bag of weed\n\nBringing forth Heltah Skeltah\nBe the big Rock, God help ya\nI beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\nI gets open like doors when I be trooping\nTrademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\nHooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\nMug\nCuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\nCuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\nRoam in the streets with my chrome\nI'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\nNuff men a die, nuff men a come try\nTo test the warrior I, me no know why\nA new breed of conquerors is on the rise\nStep to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\nFrom the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\nSmif-N-Wessun coming through\nStomping out all you wack rappers\nWith the crazy dread\nThe mad boy head's fed\nOf corny shit that's said\nSo now you bleed like your man bled\nWe're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\nFlowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\nYour thoughts smell. Violators to the left\nFour slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\nSo think about it\nAbort your mission, it's impossible\nOr be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\nYou silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\nFuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp\nIndustry we break down\n\nI be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\nStep to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\nThe T-O-P D-O-G\nOr my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\nSome of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\nBut I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\nTime to catch wreck, get back to the set\nWhere all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\nAll up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\nComing through with my wrecking crew\nSo I reckon you keep it real, If not\nI'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\nGlocks\nAnd whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\nThe only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\nN-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\nBetter be ready to be jetty if you're petty\nCuz if it wasn't already said\nWe're dangerous and deadly\nYou better recognize or recollect\nI wreck a set with a Tek\nAnd we ain't asking, we blasting\nNow, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\nI earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\nAnd I reveal my knife to cut you loose\nI'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\nCuz, time upon time, I find\nIf you remain blind, you get left behind\nBut we see very clearly\nSo step up to the front cuz this is where we\nRepresent on the lovely for you\nAnd give praise due to the Father above me\nCuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\nThe backs off the wack rappers that jack off\nThat's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\nNiggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you\nFuck with my Bucktown group\nAnd in the night, night, who rolls tight\nWhy you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\nBoot Camp surviving to freak you, and\nComing through, representing Boot Camp Clik\nIndustry we break down","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cession At Da Doghillee Feat. Buckshot, Heltah Skeltah, O.G.C.\n  artist: Smif-N-Wessun\n  album: Dah Shinin'\n  duration_ms: 326220\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ahem\n  Fuckin pockets man\n  Fuckin pockets\n  Shuckin and duckin\n  Cuz imma light this motherfucker up and smoke it\n\n  I flow fluidly. Who I be? That be none of your\n  Beeswax ease back 'fore I squeeze gats We don't need that\n  Do we, do we? Rap-style dookie\n  A Dog like Tim, that's why you're scared to step to me\n  Do we have to result in fisticuffs\n  See, I get swift with my stuff that's when the Ruck erupts\n  So think not of what I am and what I do\n  Just recognize, when I'm on the mic, I rule\n\n  How many corny emcee gon' try\n  Fifty emcee, forty of 'em done die\n  Run with Heltah Skeltah through the realms of the dark\n  If a nigga rift, then I'ma let the four-four bark\n  Everybody knows, when my knotty head grows\n  I turn into a lethal weapon and start stepping on toes\n  I waste no time when I move mine\n  Grab my Glock and then I clear the block Like I was PO-9\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  In the night, who roll tight\n\n  Wack emcees have best to beware\n  That I fears no fears and that's word to my dry tear\n  I break your whole fucking crew in half\n  Feel the wrath as the Gunn Clappaz clap that ass. One\n  Time for your mind, hit that ass colorblind\n  Signed on the dotted line is how I live my lifetime\n  Reality hit me at some degrees\n  Now my eyes bleed (Why)\n  Because I just smoked a bag of weed\n\n  Bringing forth Heltah Skeltah\n  Be the big Rock, God help ya\n  I beats more ass than mom dukes' leather belt\n  I gets open like doors when I be trooping\n  Trademark be booting, baggy pants drooping\n  Hooping and hollering. Nigga, shut your\n  Mug\n  Cuz I might have you swallowing a whole bunch of slugs\n  Cuz I'm bugged in my dome piece\n  Roam in the streets with my chrome\n  I'ma blast it, my Camp's magic, I get that ass quick\n\n  Nuff men a die, nuff men a come try\n  To test the warrior I, me no know why\n  A new breed of conquerors is on the rise\n  Step to my Boot Camp and catch black eyes\n  From the Heltah Skeltah, The Gunn, the Clappaz\n  Smif-N-Wessun coming through\n  Stomping out all you wack rappers\n  With the crazy dread\n  The mad boy head's fed\n  Of corny shit that's said\n  So now you bleed like your man bled\n  We're getting twisted as our Timbs cover pavement\n  Flowing state-to-state, picking up the next payment\n  Your thoughts smell. Violators to the left\n  Four slugs hit 'em chest, no more, no less\n  So think about it\n  Abort your mission, it's impossible\n  Or be a vegetable, laying bent up in the hospital\n  You silly wabbit, tricks are for kids, don't you know that\n  Fuck with my Boot Camp and get your wig pushed back\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp\n  Industry we break down\n\n  I be that rude boy, bad boy, coming from the Ville\n  Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me\n  The T-O-P D-O-G\n  Or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G\n  Some of y'all niggas be trying to pull the trigger\n  But I figure, I could bust that ass just a little quicker\n  Time to catch wreck, get back to the set\n  Where all generals, them call Timb Chek\n\n  All up in your motherfucking grill, I be still\n  Coming through with my wrecking crew\n  So I reckon you keep it real, If not\n  I'm blowing spots on whoever be showing\n  Glocks\n  And whatnots, walking around, faking mad rocks\n  The only Rock I know is B.I.G. breaking up\n  N-I-double G-As with that nigga R-U-C-K\n  Better be ready to be jetty if you're petty\n  Cuz if it wasn't already said\n  We're dangerous and deadly\n  You better recognize or recollect\n  I wreck a set with a Tek\n  And we ain't asking, we blasting\n  Now, from this, you may think that Steele is trife\n  I earn my stripes cuz I deal with the real in life\n  And I reveal my knife to cut you loose\n  I'm not Ruthless, but you'll get the boots if you useless\n  Cuz, time upon time, I find\n  If you remain blind, you get left behind\n  But we see very clearly\n  So step up to the front cuz this is where we\n  Represent on the lovely for you\n  And give praise due to the Father above me\n  Cuz we ain't here to attack all, but we'll\n  The backs off the wack rappers that jack off\n  That's all, that's it, strictly the bumping shit\n  Niggas don't even know what they fucking with\n\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you\n  Fuck with my Bucktown group\n  And in the night, night, who rolls tight\n  Why you wanna fuck with my Boot Camp\n  Boot Camp surviving to freak you, and\n  Coming through, representing Boot Camp Clik\n  Industry we break down\n"}]