[{"id":21171689,"name":"The Piece Maker","trackName":"The Piece Maker","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":165.15675,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ GangStarr\n\nChorus (intro): samples\n--Tony Touch--\n--The incredible... DJ--\n--The tables turn--\n--relay that one time--\n--OK, Tony Touch--\n--is so tremendous--\n--Tony touch--\n\n[Guru]\nYo i be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style(?)\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\n-Chorus-\n\n[Guru]\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nand surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n-Chorus-","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 165157\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n f/ GangStarr\n\n Chorus (intro): samples\n --Tony Touch--\n --The incredible... DJ--\n --The tables turn--\n --relay that one time--\n --OK, Tony Touch--\n --is so tremendous--\n --Tony touch--\n\n [Guru]\n Yo i be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style(?)\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n -Chorus-\n\n [Guru]\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n and surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n -Chorus-\n"},{"id":9589426,"name":"The Piece Maker","trackName":"The Piece Maker","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n--Tony Touch--\n--The incredible... DJ--\n--The tables turn--\n--relay that one time--\n--OK, Tony Touch--\n--is so tremendous--\n--Tony touch--\n[Guru]\nYo I be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master piece maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nBe\t-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style(??)\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n[Chorus]\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the why\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nAnd surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n[Chorus]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"[Chorus]\\n--Tony Touch--\\n--The incredible... DJ--\\n--The tables turn--\\n--relay that one time--\\n--OK, Tony Touch--\\n--is so tremendous--\\n--Tony touch--\\n[Guru]\\nYo I be da mic smoka\\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\\nHe be the beat maker\\nThe master piece maker\\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\\nBe\\t-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\\nAll my people that love that real shit\\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\\nOther DJs like to steal shit\\nBut when we see em\\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\\nDamn well they want to be him\\nTie you and hear me in style(??)\\nThat why we givin him style\\nIt be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\\nGang to the Starr\\nHold ya glock steady\\nWord to Rocksteady\\nBetta get ya blocks ready\\n[Chorus]\\nWho sleepin on the crow\\nCreepin on the low\\nT-O-N to the why\\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\\nAnd surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\\n[Chorus]\"\n"},{"id":9589427,"name":"The Piece Maker","trackName":"The Piece Maker","artistName":"Touch, Tony","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ GangStarr\n\nChorus (intro): samples\n--Tony Touch--\n--The incredible... DJ--\n--The tables turn--\n--relay that one time--\n--OK, Tony Touch--\n--is so tremendous--\n--Tony touch--\n\n[Guru]\nYo i be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style(?)\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\n-Chorus-\n\n[Guru]\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nand surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n-Chorus-","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker\n artist: Touch, Tony\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n f/ GangStarr\n\n Chorus (intro): samples\n --Tony Touch--\n --The incredible... DJ--\n --The tables turn--\n --relay that one time--\n --OK, Tony Touch--\n --is so tremendous--\n --Tony touch--\n\n [Guru]\n Yo i be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style(?)\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n -Chorus-\n\n [Guru]\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n and surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n -Chorus-\n"},{"id":36426611,"name":"The Piece Maker (Paused)","trackName":"The Piece Maker (Paused)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ GangStarr\n\nChorus (intro): samples\n--Tony Touch--\n--The incredible... DJ--\n--The tables turn--\n--relay that one time--\n--OK, Tony Touch--\n--is so tremendous--\n--Tony touch--\n\n[Guru]\nYo i be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style(?)\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\n-Chorus-\n\n[Guru]\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nand surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n-Chorus-","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker (Paused)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n f/ GangStarr\n\n Chorus (intro): samples\n --Tony Touch--\n --The incredible... DJ--\n --The tables turn--\n --relay that one time--\n --OK, Tony Touch--\n --is so tremendous--\n --Tony touch--\n\n [Guru]\n Yo i be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style(?)\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n -Chorus-\n\n [Guru]\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n and surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n -Chorus-\n"},{"id":30861091,"name":"The Piece Maker","trackName":"The Piece Maker","artistName":"Tony Touch; Gang Starr","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":162.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Tony Touch\"\n\"The incredible... DJ\"\n\"The tables turn\"\n\"relay that one time\"\n\"OK, Tony Touch\"\n\"is so tremendous\"\n\"Tony touch\"\n\nYo I be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style[?]\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\n\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nAnd surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker\n artist: Tony Touch; Gang Starr\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 162000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n \"Tony Touch\"\n \"The incredible... DJ\"\n \"The tables turn\"\n \"relay that one time\"\n \"OK, Tony Touch\"\n \"is so tremendous\"\n \"Tony touch\"\n\n Yo I be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style[?]\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n And surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n"},{"id":27762710,"name":"The Piece Maker","trackName":"The Piece Maker","artistName":"Gang Starr/Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Tony Touch\"\n\"The incredible... DJ\"\n\"The tables turn\"\n\"relay that one time\"\n\"OK, Tony Touch\"\n\"is so tremendous\"\n\"Tony touch\"\n\nYo I be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style[?]\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\n\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nAnd surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker\n artist: Gang Starr/Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n \"Tony Touch\"\n \"The incredible... DJ\"\n \"The tables turn\"\n \"relay that one time\"\n \"OK, Tony Touch\"\n \"is so tremendous\"\n \"Tony touch\"\n\n Yo I be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style[?]\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n And surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n"},{"id":9589425,"name":"The Piece Maker (feat. Gang Starr)","trackName":"The Piece Maker (feat. Gang Starr)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Tony Touch\"\n\"The incredible... DJ\"\n\"The tables turn\"\n\"relay that one time\"\n\"OK, Tony Touch\"\n\"is so tremendous\"\n\"Tony touch\"\n\nYo I be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style[?]\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\n\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nAnd surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker (feat. Gang Starr)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n \"Tony Touch\"\n \"The incredible... DJ\"\n \"The tables turn\"\n \"relay that one time\"\n \"OK, Tony Touch\"\n \"is so tremendous\"\n \"Tony touch\"\n\n Yo I be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style[?]\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n And surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n"},{"id":26101734,"name":"The Piece Maker (feat. Gang St","trackName":"The Piece Maker (feat. Gang St","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":162.951837,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ GangStarr\n\nChorus (intro): samples\n--Tony Touch--\n--The incredible... DJ--\n--The tables turn--\n--relay that one time--\n--OK, Tony Touch--\n--is so tremendous--\n--Tony touch--\n\n[Guru]\nYo i be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style(?)\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\n-Chorus-\n\n[Guru]\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nand surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n-Chorus-","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker (feat. Gang St\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 162952\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n f/ GangStarr\n\n Chorus (intro): samples\n --Tony Touch--\n --The incredible... DJ--\n --The tables turn--\n --relay that one time--\n --OK, Tony Touch--\n --is so tremendous--\n --Tony touch--\n\n [Guru]\n Yo i be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style(?)\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n -Chorus-\n\n [Guru]\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n and surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n -Chorus-\n"},{"id":10575398,"name":"The Piece Maker","trackName":"The Piece Maker","artistName":"Tony Touch feat. Gang Starr","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"Tony Touch\"\n\"The incredible... DJ\"\n\"The tables turn\"\n\"relay that one time\"\n\"OK, Tony Touch\"\n\"is so tremendous\"\n\"Tony touch\"\n\nYo I be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style[?]\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\n\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nAnd surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker\n artist: Tony Touch feat. Gang Starr\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n \"Tony Touch\"\n \"The incredible... DJ\"\n \"The tables turn\"\n \"relay that one time\"\n \"OK, Tony Touch\"\n \"is so tremendous\"\n \"Tony touch\"\n\n Yo I be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style[?]\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, I'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n And surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n"},{"id":32001818,"name":"The Piece Maker (Instrumental)","trackName":"The Piece Maker (Instrumental)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Diaz Bros bw The Piece Mak","duration":163.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ GangStarr\n\nChorus (intro): samples\n--Tony Touch--\n--The incredible... DJ--\n--The tables turn--\n--relay that one time--\n--OK, Tony Touch--\n--is so tremendous--\n--Tony touch--\n\n[Guru]\nYo i be da mic smoka\nPuff dro with Tony Toca\nHe be the beat maker\nThe master peice maker\nMakin masterpieces, timeless works of art\nSome of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\nSo by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\nTone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\nWell respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\nB-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\nAll my people that love that real shit\nThe got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\nOther DJs like to steal shit\nBut when we see em\nThey be frontin like it's love, no it\nDamn well they want to be him\nTie you and hear me in style(?)\nThat why we givin him style\nIt be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\nGang to the Starr\nHold ya glock steady\nWord to Rocksteady\nBetta get ya blocks ready\n\n-Chorus-\n\n[Guru]\nWho sleepin on the crow\nCreepin on the low\nT-O-N to the Y\nFuck with us and watch your fam die\nDamn I, know you want another CD of that\nHardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\nI majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\nKnowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\nPoof, something arises, outta nothing\nand surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\nYou can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\nWhere my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\nNiggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\nWill the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\nThrow that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\nFinal decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\nI will, always be the brother you can relate ta\nGuru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n-Chorus-","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Piece Maker (Instrumental)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Diaz Bros bw The Piece Mak\n duration_ms: 163000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n f/ GangStarr\n\n Chorus (intro): samples\n --Tony Touch--\n --The incredible... DJ--\n --The tables turn--\n --relay that one time--\n --OK, Tony Touch--\n --is so tremendous--\n --Tony touch--\n\n [Guru]\n Yo i be da mic smoka\n Puff dro with Tony Toca\n He be the beat maker\n The master peice maker\n Makin masterpieces, timeless works of art\n Some of ya'll might be affraid of what lurks in the dark\n So by the wave of his hand and by the flick of his wrist\n Tone brings things to light at the flip of a switch\n Well respected, well connected From Bushwick to Vegas\n B-Boy fanatic, dramatic on the cross feeders\n All my people that love that real shit\n The got love for Tone cause he make em feel shit\n Other DJs like to steal shit\n But when we see em\n They be frontin like it's love, no it\n Damn well they want to be him\n Tie you and hear me in style(?)\n That why we givin him style\n It be the piece maker, i'm the jewel of the wild\n Gang to the Starr\n Hold ya glock steady\n Word to Rocksteady\n Betta get ya blocks ready\n\n -Chorus-\n\n [Guru]\n Who sleepin on the crow\n Creepin on the low\n T-O-N to the Y\n Fuck with us and watch your fam die\n Damn I, know you want another CD of that\n Hardcore rap shit, we got a degree in that\n I majored in lacin fiends, chasin greens and stayin clean\n Knowin what it's like to be strugglin and creating dreams\n Poof, something arises, outta nothing\n and surprises all you all you weak minded, sideways suckas\n You can't deny it, it's like doing a bid and not learning jack shit\n Where my old Tony Touch take, and ask me what was that shit\n Niggaz got the shit backwards, it's drastic\n Will the dollar move, or will we rely on plastic\n Throw that shit, we're gonna rely on the vinyl\n Final decisions and mad revisions for all rivals\n I will, always be the brother you can relate ta\n Guru, Premier, and my man Tone the Piece Maker\n\n -Chorus-\n"},{"id":9589430,"name":"The Abduction","trackName":"The Abduction","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[GZA]\nOkay.. the GZA\nTony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin?\nWe gonna bang why'all, in the head one time\nBlaze up on why'all one time real fast (Do the mix and all that shit)\nKnamsayin, word up (Make it make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\nThrow ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n(Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down yo)\nI take why'all niggas straight, +Beneath the Surface+\nto the core, if it ain't raw its worthless\nPentab professional, hold the ink\nwhile river rats fall off the raft and sink\nTony let a brother Touch, twenty bar rush\nThe way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\nAllah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\nQuick to quake a label-mate\nThe sound came outta rusted crate\nSurrounded by cobwebs\nBeat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\nOn a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\nWu-Tang niggaz they shine and make the mic glow\n[Masta Killa]\nWe killin all gorillin with all that screwfacin\nPacin back and forth looking savage, stop it\n[RZA aka Bobby Digital]\nWhether plugged in or plugged out\nIron drill mugged or thugged out\nBlood in or blood out, son was bugged out\nMight look at you and slice you\nBuck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\nWho the fuck you think let why'all wild niggas in\nAllowed you to put down ya guns, and raise ya pen\nRuler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\nWe teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\nMurder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\nDon't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\nI'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\nYou see the Wu W raised in black fists\nMaybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\nThe ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\nwas only appraised at forty-two\nGazed upon by the eyes of multitude\nof people, who would trade gold for food\nI heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\nOr street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\nBobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\nBreak my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit a nice piece\n[Masta Killa]\nPenetrate on mix tape, with the legislation\nIllustrate constant elevation\nSpark friction, Shawshank Golden Arm Redemption\nEndorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n[Inspecta Deck]\nOff top my unorthodox style of attack\nis like Hannibal rollin on elephant's backs\nPack a long barrel, bustin off strong ammo\nMy light so vast I cast twenty foot shadows\nFirst family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\nLoad it in ya head play it back slow\nAct like you know, this is no drill\nMurderous rap revealed goin for kill\nOn these New York city sidewalks we walk\nCamoflauge, dodgin the eyes of the hawk\nKani Sport, totin the fifth, slidin off\nMy live source movin across with brute force\nBloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\nFakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\nWords of murder, suspense, and intrigue\nMake major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\nMy Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\nSqueeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\nTony's Touch create more gold than Midas\nYa highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n[Ghostface Killa]\nFrosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\nLampin in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\nBoat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\nSwung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\nTimb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\nTo ever single seat I smack flames\nStaten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\nThrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\nNickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\nand the limelights of Cuba Gooding\nLost in the cosmos, explodin through a quasar\nBe duckin pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\nTony Touch, Tony Touch\nWord up\nBig Face Ghost in effect","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Abduction\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 206000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [GZA]\n Okay.. the GZA\n Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin?\n We gonna bang why'all, in the head one time\n Blaze up on why'all one time real fast (Do the mix and all that shit)\n Knamsayin, word up (Make it make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down yo)\n I take why'all niggas straight, +Beneath the Surface+\n to the core, if it ain't raw its worthless\n Pentab professional, hold the ink\n while river rats fall off the raft and sink\n Tony let a brother Touch, twenty bar rush\n The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n Quick to quake a label-mate\n The sound came outta rusted crate\n Surrounded by cobwebs\n Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n Wu-Tang niggaz they shine and make the mic glow\n [Masta Killa]\n We killin all gorillin with all that screwfacin\n Pacin back and forth looking savage, stop it\n [RZA aka Bobby Digital]\n Whether plugged in or plugged out\n Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n Might look at you and slice you\n Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n Who the fuck you think let why'all wild niggas in\n Allowed you to put down ya guns, and raise ya pen\n Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n was only appraised at forty-two\n Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n of people, who would trade gold for food\n I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit a nice piece\n [Masta Killa]\n Penetrate on mix tape, with the legislation\n Illustrate constant elevation\n Spark friction, Shawshank Golden Arm Redemption\n Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n [Inspecta Deck]\n Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n is like Hannibal rollin on elephant's backs\n Pack a long barrel, bustin off strong ammo\n My light so vast I cast twenty foot shadows\n First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n Load it in ya head play it back slow\n Act like you know, this is no drill\n Murderous rap revealed goin for kill\n On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n Camoflauge, dodgin the eyes of the hawk\n Kani Sport, totin the fifth, slidin off\n My live source movin across with brute force\n Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n [Ghostface Killa]\n Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n Lampin in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n To ever single seat I smack flames\n Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n and the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n Lost in the cosmos, explodin through a quasar\n Be duckin pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n Tony Touch, Tony Touch\n Word up\n Big Face Ghost in effect\n"},{"id":9589431,"name":"The Abduction","trackName":"The Abduction","artistName":"Touch, Tony","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Okay. the GZA\nTony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin?\nWe gonna bang why'all, in the head one time\nBlaze up on why'all one time real fast (Do the mix and all that shit)\nKnamsayin, word up (Make it make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\nThrow ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n(Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down yo)\n\nI take why'all niggas straight, +Beneath the Surface+\nto the core, if it ain't raw its worthless\nPentab professional, hold the ink\nwhile river rats fall off the raft and sink\nTony let a brother Touch, twenty bar rush\nThe way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\nAllah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\nQuick to quake a label-mate\nThe sound came outta rusted crate\nSurrounded by cobwebs\nBeat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\nOn a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\nWu-Tang niggaz they shine and make the mic glow\n\nWe killin all gorillin with all that screwfacin\nPacin back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\nWhether plugged in or plugged out\nIron drill mugged or thugged out\nBlood in or blood out, son was bugged out\nMight look at you and slice you\nBuck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\nWho the fuck you think let why'all wild niggas in\nAllowed you to put down ya guns, and raise ya pen\nRuler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\nWe teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\nMurder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\nDon't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\nI'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\nYou see the Wu W raised in black fists\nMaybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\nThe ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\nwas only appraised at forty-two\nGazed upon by the eyes of multitude\nof people, who would trade gold for food\nI heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\nOr street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\nBobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\nBreak my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit a nice piece\n\nPenetrate on mix tape, with the legislation\nIllustrate constant elevation\nSpark friction, Shawshank Golden Arm Redemption\nEndorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\nOff top my unorthodox style of attack\nis like Hannibal rollin on elephant's backs\nPack a long barrel, bustin off strong ammo\nMy light so vast I cast twenty foot shadows\nFirst family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\nLoad it in ya head play it back slow\nAct like you know, this is no drill\nMurderous rap revealed goin for kill\nOn these New York city sidewalks we walk\nCamoflauge, dodgin the eyes of the hawk\nKani Sport, totin the fifth, slidin off\nMy live source movin across with brute force\nBloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\nFakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\nWords of murder, suspense, and intrigue\nMake major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\nMy Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\nSqueeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\nTony's Touch create more gold than Midas\nYa highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\nFrosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\nLampin in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\nBoat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\nSwung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\nTimb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\nTo ever single seat I smack flames\nStaten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\nThrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\nNickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\nand the limelights of Cuba Gooding\nLost in the cosmos, explodin through a quasar\nBe duckin pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\nTony Touch, Tony Touch\nWord up\nBig Face Ghost in effect","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Abduction\n artist: Touch, Tony\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 206000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Okay. the GZA\n Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin?\n We gonna bang why'all, in the head one time\n Blaze up on why'all one time real fast (Do the mix and all that shit)\n Knamsayin, word up (Make it make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down yo)\n\n I take why'all niggas straight, +Beneath the Surface+\n to the core, if it ain't raw its worthless\n Pentab professional, hold the ink\n while river rats fall off the raft and sink\n Tony let a brother Touch, twenty bar rush\n The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n Quick to quake a label-mate\n The sound came outta rusted crate\n Surrounded by cobwebs\n Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n Wu-Tang niggaz they shine and make the mic glow\n\n We killin all gorillin with all that screwfacin\n Pacin back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\n Whether plugged in or plugged out\n Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n Might look at you and slice you\n Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n Who the fuck you think let why'all wild niggas in\n Allowed you to put down ya guns, and raise ya pen\n Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n was only appraised at forty-two\n Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n of people, who would trade gold for food\n I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit a nice piece\n\n Penetrate on mix tape, with the legislation\n Illustrate constant elevation\n Spark friction, Shawshank Golden Arm Redemption\n Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\n Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n is like Hannibal rollin on elephant's backs\n Pack a long barrel, bustin off strong ammo\n My light so vast I cast twenty foot shadows\n First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n Load it in ya head play it back slow\n Act like you know, this is no drill\n Murderous rap revealed goin for kill\n On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n Camoflauge, dodgin the eyes of the hawk\n Kani Sport, totin the fifth, slidin off\n My live source movin across with brute force\n Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\n Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n Lampin in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n To ever single seat I smack flames\n Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n and the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n Lost in the cosmos, explodin through a quasar\n Be duckin pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n Tony Touch, Tony Touch\n Word up\n Big Face Ghost in effect\n"},{"id":17473193,"name":"The Return of the Diaz Bros.","trackName":"The Return of the Diaz Bros.","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":204.2331648,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\nOkay Tony. listen to me.\nSee those two guys over there?\nThose are the Diaz Brothers\nThey got the biggest distribution of mixtapes\nfrom New York all the way to Tucson, Arizona\nYou know anything - don't fuck with them Tony\nThey will stick you underneath the fucking ground\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nAiy, hey FUCK THE DIAZ BROTHERS huh?\nI bury those motherfuckers\nWHO THE FUCK is the Diaz Brothers?\nYou come and step to me? Hey fuck you!\n\n[Tony Touch and Doo Wop]\nIf you (if you) wanna know (wanna know)\nA little story, about the two.\nWell let me tell you we're the Diaz Brothers bitch\nand we doin this just for you (what?) yo yo\nsaid we doin this just for you (what?) uh uh\nsaid we doin it. yeah we doin it.\n\n[Tony Touch]\nWell it's the rap Tito Fuente, mira mira frente\nRepresent my people, 'ju know mi gente\nYeah, everyday all day para siempre\nDiaz Brothers, stay caliente\nHot to death, when me and Wop rock the set\nB.K. to B.X. straight lockin it (yeah)\nAll y'all other DJ's be poppin shit\nbut when we come around the way I do the opposite\nWhat's the deal with all that hypocrisy?\nOn the real y'all need to stop jockin we\nLike KRS-One, here's \"My Philosophy\"\nSettin it off, with my monopoly\nIf it ain't over, it's about to be\nand it damn sure ain't nuttin stoppin me\nSangalo, Toca, cantalo\nCri-mi-nal, tremendous scan-da-lo, what?\n\n[speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\nOkay Tony, you're going too far now\nThese motherfuckers will kill you\nThey'll cut off your fuckin testicles\nand shove it up your fuckin ass\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nFUCK THAT! COME ON! You want a war?\nYou fuckin wit Pain in Da Ass;\nyou're fuckin wit the best motherfucker!\nI'll stick your fuckin head up ju' fuckin ass\nthen I'll molest your fuckin kids. FUCK YOU!\n\n[Doo Wop]\nYo. yo yo yo yo yo yo\nOn some Prodigy shit, chain drop to my dick\nNo chokers, exotic shit swingin like Sosa\nAt the Copa, with Tone Toca, opposite of sob-ah\nLots of Henny-lo and Coca-Cola\nBlend tape hoe glock tre-eight blowers\nHeavyweight holders, got every state sewed up\nNiggaz broke? Nah, pockets Al Roker\nBudget like Trinidad and De La Hoya\nSeptember 18th, Mixtape Kingz walk up in the ring\nGrey minks, turntables hangin on links\nPoli' with chinks - the main attaction - Wally's dyed pink\nShirt matchin, thug fashion, Thug Passion\ncompliments of Don King, it's a Don thing\nFuck a drink, still schemein on that charm King\nChill son, put away the toast, make a toast\nto the hated most, Puerto Rican \"Rae' and Ghost\"\n\n[Doo Wop and Tony Touch]\nWop and Tone never leavin the hoes alone\nAnd all the hoes never leavin US alone\nAnd Wop and Tone never leavin the chrome at home\nin case we gotta put four up in your dome\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nTake this fuckin shit\nYou know WHY THE FUCKIN PEOPLE LOVE ME?\nCause I'm FUCKIN REAL!\nI tell you what the FUCK'S on my mind, OKAY?!\n\n[Tony Touch]\nOkay.\nIt's the Return of the Jedi;\nnow tell me who the hell said I\ncouldn't bring it to any boriqua tierras\nFrom L.A. back to N.Y. on the red eye\nToca, holdin it down on the M-I\n(The M.O.) used to be \"Listen to My Demo\"\nAll dem vogue now with no problemo\nBefore I do a show, have my dinero\nI'm talkin to all you pendejos!\n\n[Doo Wop]\nYo. yo yo\nMy rhymes get spit like a gajo\nMy nines get the clips with the hollows\nFive carat chips in my Movado\nDoo Wop, spic half Cubano\nwho copped six and used to have the milano\nwho got your main chain vicked at the Apollo\nwhere Eric B. and Rakim would \"Follow, the Leader\"\nMany nights got my dick swallowed at the Fever\nby any white black or Pediqua, Maria, Chiniqua\nHad em all player, fucked em and played em\nYou loved em and date em\nGave em an ultimatum\nTalk about that kid Wop, I hate him\nSo cut him off or I'ma blaze him -\nBROTHER YOU'RE SOFT\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nYou come and step to me? Hey FUCK YOU!\nThose guys they fuckin talk too much\nAll they concerned about is fuckin pussy and drinking\nThe booze, and the coochie\nI got those guys fuckin soft man\nThey can't fuck with me\nI'll bury those fuckin cock-a-roaches\nFUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Return of the Diaz Bros.\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 204233\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\n Okay Tony. listen to me.\n See those two guys over there?\n Those are the Diaz Brothers\n They got the biggest distribution of mixtapes\n from New York all the way to Tucson, Arizona\n You know anything - don't fuck with them Tony\n They will stick you underneath the fucking ground\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n Aiy, hey FUCK THE DIAZ BROTHERS huh?\n I bury those motherfuckers\n WHO THE FUCK is the Diaz Brothers?\n You come and step to me? Hey fuck you!\n\n [Tony Touch and Doo Wop]\n If you (if you) wanna know (wanna know)\n A little story, about the two.\n Well let me tell you we're the Diaz Brothers bitch\n and we doin this just for you (what?) yo yo\n said we doin this just for you (what?) uh uh\n said we doin it. yeah we doin it.\n\n [Tony Touch]\n Well it's the rap Tito Fuente, mira mira frente\n Represent my people, 'ju know mi gente\n Yeah, everyday all day para siempre\n Diaz Brothers, stay caliente\n Hot to death, when me and Wop rock the set\n B.K. to B.X. straight lockin it (yeah)\n All y'all other DJ's be poppin shit\n but when we come around the way I do the opposite\n What's the deal with all that hypocrisy?\n On the real y'all need to stop jockin we\n Like KRS-One, here's \"My Philosophy\"\n Settin it off, with my monopoly\n If it ain't over, it's about to be\n and it damn sure ain't nuttin stoppin me\n Sangalo, Toca, cantalo\n Cri-mi-nal, tremendous scan-da-lo, what?\n\n [speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\n Okay Tony, you're going too far now\n These motherfuckers will kill you\n They'll cut off your fuckin testicles\n and shove it up your fuckin ass\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n FUCK THAT! COME ON! You want a war?\n You fuckin wit Pain in Da Ass;\n you're fuckin wit the best motherfucker!\n I'll stick your fuckin head up ju' fuckin ass\n then I'll molest your fuckin kids. FUCK YOU!\n\n [Doo Wop]\n Yo. yo yo yo yo yo yo\n On some Prodigy shit, chain drop to my dick\n No chokers, exotic shit swingin like Sosa\n At the Copa, with Tone Toca, opposite of sob-ah\n Lots of Henny-lo and Coca-Cola\n Blend tape hoe glock tre-eight blowers\n Heavyweight holders, got every state sewed up\n Niggaz broke? Nah, pockets Al Roker\n Budget like Trinidad and De La Hoya\n September 18th, Mixtape Kingz walk up in the ring\n Grey minks, turntables hangin on links\n Poli' with chinks - the main attaction - Wally's dyed pink\n Shirt matchin, thug fashion, Thug Passion\n compliments of Don King, it's a Don thing\n Fuck a drink, still schemein on that charm King\n Chill son, put away the toast, make a toast\n to the hated most, Puerto Rican \"Rae' and Ghost\"\n\n [Doo Wop and Tony Touch]\n Wop and Tone never leavin the hoes alone\n And all the hoes never leavin US alone\n And Wop and Tone never leavin the chrome at home\n in case we gotta put four up in your dome\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n Take this fuckin shit\n You know WHY THE FUCKIN PEOPLE LOVE ME?\n Cause I'm FUCKIN REAL!\n I tell you what the FUCK'S on my mind, OKAY?!\n\n [Tony Touch]\n Okay.\n It's the Return of the Jedi;\n now tell me who the hell said I\n couldn't bring it to any boriqua tierras\n From L.A. back to N.Y. on the red eye\n Toca, holdin it down on the M-I\n (The M.O.) used to be \"Listen to My Demo\"\n All dem vogue now with no problemo\n Before I do a show, have my dinero\n I'm talkin to all you pendejos!\n\n [Doo Wop]\n Yo. yo yo\n My rhymes get spit like a gajo\n My nines get the clips with the hollows\n Five carat chips in my Movado\n Doo Wop, spic half Cubano\n who copped six and used to have the milano\n who got your main chain vicked at the Apollo\n where Eric B. and Rakim would \"Follow, the Leader\"\n Many nights got my dick swallowed at the Fever\n by any white black or Pediqua, Maria, Chiniqua\n Had em all player, fucked em and played em\n You loved em and date em\n Gave em an ultimatum\n Talk about that kid Wop, I hate him\n So cut him off or I'ma blaze him -\n BROTHER YOU'RE SOFT\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n You come and step to me? Hey FUCK YOU!\n Those guys they fuckin talk too much\n All they concerned about is fuckin pussy and drinking\n The booze, and the coochie\n I got those guys fuckin soft man\n They can't fuck with me\n I'll bury those fuckin cock-a-roaches\n FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!\n"},{"id":39013167,"name":"Royce the 5'9 (interlude)","trackName":"Royce the 5'9 (interlude)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":57.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Royce the 5'9\")\n\n[Royce]\nDetroit, yeah.\nRoyce 5-9, Tony TOUCH!\nThe year is two-thousand\nMr. Quick-to-Slap-and-Punch\nUhh uhh uhh uhh. what?\n\nYo yo\nI'm entirely too hard to listen to talk\nI get raw and get this clip and draw, send you to Mars\nNiggaz with hidden hearts get written off\nFind yaself bruh\nYou barely know what your click is called, cowboy\nYou wish you could spar with half of a mind\nKill you with half of a line\nwithout a need to continue the bar\nIt's a infamous art, not many can spit from the heart\nTurnin pens into darts\nIt's what you call meant for the charts\nSo rather I'm sayin, \"Fuck you,\" and flippin you off\nMan these infinite thoughts in the bank, so enter the vault\nMy visions assault your sister for description are lost\nEvery time a nigga piss me off, stick on the wall\nSo even when the nigga not lookin he listen and pause\nForget it dog, when I spit at y'all, you shit in your drawers\nI'm comin at you from e'ry angle\nand the shit can be very painful\nSo how you luh that? Scared ain't you.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Royce the 5'9 (interlude)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 57190\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n (feat. Royce the 5'9\")\n\n [Royce]\n Detroit, yeah.\n Royce 5-9, Tony TOUCH!\n The year is two-thousand\n Mr. Quick-to-Slap-and-Punch\n Uhh uhh uhh uhh. what?\n\n Yo yo\n I'm entirely too hard to listen to talk\n I get raw and get this clip and draw, send you to Mars\n Niggaz with hidden hearts get written off\n Find yaself bruh\n You barely know what your click is called, cowboy\n You wish you could spar with half of a mind\n Kill you with half of a line\n without a need to continue the bar\n It's a infamous art, not many can spit from the heart\n Turnin pens into darts\n It's what you call meant for the charts\n So rather I'm sayin, \"Fuck you,\" and flippin you off\n Man these infinite thoughts in the bank, so enter the vault\n My visions assault your sister for description are lost\n Every time a nigga piss me off, stick on the wall\n So even when the nigga not lookin he listen and pause\n Forget it dog, when I spit at y'all, you shit in your drawers\n I'm comin at you from e'ry angle\n and the shit can be very painful\n So how you luh that? Scared ain't you.\n"},{"id":25114718,"name":"The Foundation (feat. Big Pun,","trackName":"The Foundation (feat. Big Pun,","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":229.955918,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"When there's beef whoo I come through with the cray troops\nRip up your fucking legs turn them jeans to daisy dukes\nSpray your trucks, spray your coops, spray your Kawasaki bikes\nStarting hockey fights - Tyson lefts Rocky rights\nYour moms a khaki dyke, your father dress in drag\nStick out his chest and brag how he molest a fag\nLike father like son\nBet you rock Victoria Sec's sit on the toilet then leak\nAnd take it raw up your cheeks\nTonight I might just take a buddha spot\nDread better take me to the pot\nAin't no killer I just shoot alot\nI ain't no boxer I just punch alot\nJabbing niggas in they belly's got them spitting up they lunch alot\nFuck a Merry Christmas\nYo thats the terror day\nMy father was murdered that night so I don't celebrate\nIf santa hit my chimney with them bozo clothes\nIma make the .44 blow\nFill his fat ass full of holes holes holes\n\nWhy you play\nKnowing that my style is Y2K\nYou can die today\nNigga there's a price to pay\nFight for game\nWe could bounce from night to day\nCause only one of us is leaving alive, ok?\n\nWho wanna wrestle Chris a.k.a. Pun the exorcist\nYour neck can twist like an owl\nWhen I piledrive its effortless\nWho next to get suplexed off the roof ledge\n20 feet in the ground\nPass the blueprints\nLife's long\nBut cut it off short trying to fight strong\nYou soft think you can handle the force of the 24 inch pythons\nStrike one, I cut out your eyes and leave you Ray Charles\nStrike two, you outta here nigga, this ain't baseball\nIt's hardcore - for my street rapping outlaws\nQuick to clap something\nBut rather go out for the South Bronx\nSouth Bronx niggas got it tone\nI shoved the shotty chrome up a nigga ass\nStuck a motherfucking maricon cause daddy's home\nKids, don't make me lie to you\nCause everybody can die right now, mami too\n\nAiyyo I respect ho's who scam food stamps, wics and shit\nAlso work a nine-to-five driving whips and shit\nGasing niggas for their chips and shit?? laps tops getting over on some offense em shit\nYou might think I be promoting this songs here for the selling\nHow we live\nSome work, some are career felons\nWe laugh at house-a-dity ho's and niggas geling not conceded\nBut Ill show you the feist that reduce the swelling\nWhen my moneys involved, yo anybody's for the snaking\nSome niggas who may think is yo fams, the ones thats faking\nLemme find out, dadd'ys stealin my bacon\nYou see me pull a .9 and start poppin like I'm Turbo from \"Breakin'\"\nI had that cat folding, rolling aces no faking\nTalk this, dump him in the furnace in the basement\nWith no traces\nIm a hit em first then pay off a witness to spit a verse\nTo get rid of his dental work\nDo ya'll niggas think it will work\nWell ima make ya'll believers cause\nI'll be damned cuz moneys comin up short like the Keeblers\nI make ya'll feel in some breathers\nSee Sherrif with the heaters\nSix in your piece\nLeave the shells line your toes like Adidas\nThis nigga is off the meters\nYrical Glocks, gunnin dem down\nToo many Big and Pacs running around\nIts just me and the 400 pound\nSunkiss with original sounds\nRepping the Bronx, huh\nYou know we mean now","syncedLyrics":"[00:09.61] When there's beef whoo I come through with the cray troops\n[00:12.97] Rip up your fucking legs turn them jeans to daisy dukes\n[00:15.06] Spray your trucks, spray your coops, spray your Kawasaki bikes\n[00:17.67] Starting hockey fights - Tyson lefts Rocky rights\n[00:19.97] Your moms a khaki dyke, your father dress in drag\n[00:22.53] Stick out his chest and brag how he molest a fag\n[00:24.90] Like father like son\n[00:26.53] Bet you rock Victoria Sec's sit on the toilet then leak\n[00:28.60] And take it raw up your cheeks\n[00:30.02] Tonight I might just take a buddha spot\n[00:31.93] Dread better take me to the pot\n[00:33.44] Ain't no killer I just shoot alot\n[00:34.94] I ain't no boxer I just punch alot\n[00:36.71] Jabbing niggas in they belly's got them spitting up they lunch alot\n[00:39.96] Fuck a Merry Christmas\n[00:41.38] Yo thats the terror day\n[00:42.46] My father was murdered that night so I don't celebrate\n[00:44.89] If santa hit my chimney with them bozo clothes\n[00:47.37] Ima make the .44 blow\n[00:48.75] Fill his fat ass full of holes holes holes\n[00:50.08] Why you play\n[00:50.94] Knowing that my style is Y2K\n[00:52.02] You can die today\n[00:53.22] Nigga there's a price to pay\n[00:54.78] Fight for game\n[00:55.77] We could bounce from night to day\n[00:57.34] Cause only one of us is leaving alive, ok?\n[01:09.66] Who wanna wrestle Chris a.k.a. Pun the exorcist\n[01:12.26] Your neck can twist like an owl\n[01:13.94] When I piledrive its effortless\n[01:14.91] Who next to get suplexed off the roof ledge\n[01:17.27] 20 feet in the ground\n[01:18.41] Pass the blueprints\n[01:19.57] Life's long\n[01:20.23] But cut it off short trying to fight strong\n[01:22.38] You soft think you can handle the force of the 24 inch pythons\n[01:24.91] Strike one, I cut out your eyes and leave you Ray Charles\n[01:27.24] Strike two, you outta here nigga, this ain't baseball\n[01:29.82] It's hardcore - for my street rapping outlaws\n[01:32.31] Quick to clap something\n[01:33.56] But rather go out for the South Bronx\n[01:34.86] South Bronx niggas got it tone\n[01:36.45] I shoved the shotty chrome up a nigga ass\n[01:38.51] Stuck a motherfucking maricon cause daddy's home\n[01:41.27] Kids, don't make me lie to you\n[01:42.52] Cause everybody can die right now, mami too\n[01:44.69] Aiyyo I respect ho's who scam food stamps, wics and shit\n[02:12.03] Also work a nine-to-five driving whips and shit\n[02:14.52] Gasing niggas for their chips and shit?? laps tops getting over on some offense em shit\n[02:19.47] You might think I be promoting this songs here for the selling\n[02:22.19] How we live\n[02:23.00] Some work, some are career felons\n[02:24.71] We laugh at house-a-dity ho's and niggas geling not conceded\n[02:27.52] But Ill show you the feist that reduce the swelling\n[02:29.82] When my moneys involved, yo anybody's for the snaking\n[02:32.20] Some niggas who may think is yo fams, the ones thats faking\n[02:34.79] Lemme find out, dadd'ys stealin my bacon\n[02:36.76] You see me pull a .9 and start poppin like I'm Turbo from \"Breakin'\"\n[02:39.86] I had that cat folding, rolling aces no faking\n[02:42.14] Talk this, dump him in the furnace in the basement\n[02:44.71] With no traces\n[02:45.77] Im a hit em first then pay off a witness to spit a verse\n[02:48.41] To get rid of his dental work\n[02:49.72] Do ya'll niggas think it will work\n[02:50.94] Well ima make ya'll believers cause\n[02:52.24] I'll be damned cuz moneys comin up short like the Keeblers\n[02:54.61] I make ya'll feel in some breathers\n[02:56.05] See Sherrif with the heaters\n[02:57.18] Six in your piece\n[02:57.93] Leave the shells line your toes like Adidas\n[02:59.76] This nigga is off the meters\n[03:00.85] Yrical Glocks, gunnin dem down\n[03:02.69] Too many Big and Pacs running around\n[03:04.42] Its just me and the 400 pound\n[03:05.86] Sunkiss with original sounds\n[03:08.17] Repping the Bronx, huh\n[03:09.05] You know we mean now\n[03:09.16] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Foundation (feat. Big Pun,\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 229956\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: When there's beef whoo I come through with the cray troops\n start_ms: 9610\n end_ms: 12970\n- text: Rip up your fucking legs turn them jeans to daisy dukes\n start_ms: 12970\n end_ms: 15060\n- text: Spray your trucks, spray your coops, spray your Kawasaki bikes\n start_ms: 15060\n end_ms: 17670\n- text: Starting hockey fights - Tyson lefts Rocky rights\n start_ms: 17670\n end_ms: 19970\n- text: Your moms a khaki dyke, your father dress in drag\n start_ms: 19970\n end_ms: 22530\n- text: Stick out his chest and brag how he molest a fag\n start_ms: 22530\n end_ms: 24900\n- text: Like father like son\n start_ms: 24900\n end_ms: 26530\n- text: Bet you rock Victoria Sec's sit on the toilet then leak\n start_ms: 26530\n end_ms: 28600\n- text: And take it raw up your cheeks\n start_ms: 28600\n end_ms: 30020\n- text: Tonight I might just take a buddha spot\n start_ms: 30020\n end_ms: 31930\n- text: Dread better take me to the pot\n start_ms: 31930\n end_ms: 33440\n- text: Ain't no killer I just shoot alot\n start_ms: 33440\n end_ms: 34940\n- text: I ain't no boxer I just punch alot\n start_ms: 34940\n end_ms: 36710\n- text: Jabbing niggas in they belly's got them spitting up they lunch alot\n start_ms: 36710\n end_ms: 39960\n- text: Fuck a Merry Christmas\n start_ms: 39960\n end_ms: 41380\n- text: Yo thats the terror day\n start_ms: 41380\n end_ms: 42460\n- text: My father was murdered that night so I don't celebrate\n start_ms: 42460\n end_ms: 44890\n- text: If santa hit my chimney with them bozo clothes\n start_ms: 44890\n end_ms: 47370\n- text: Ima make the .44 blow\n start_ms: 47370\n end_ms: 48750\n- text: Fill his fat ass full of holes holes holes\n start_ms: 48750\n end_ms: 50080\n- text: Why you play\n start_ms: 50080\n end_ms: 50940\n- text: Knowing that my style is Y2K\n start_ms: 50940\n end_ms: 52020\n- text: You can die today\n start_ms: 52020\n end_ms: 53220\n- text: Nigga there's a price to pay\n start_ms: 53220\n end_ms: 54780\n- text: Fight for game\n start_ms: 54780\n end_ms: 55770\n- text: We could bounce from night to day\n start_ms: 55770\n end_ms: 57340\n- text: Cause only one of us is leaving alive, ok?\n start_ms: 57340\n end_ms: 69660\n- text: Who wanna wrestle Chris a.k.a. Pun the exorcist\n start_ms: 69660\n end_ms: 72260\n- text: Your neck can twist like an owl\n start_ms: 72260\n end_ms: 73940\n- text: When I piledrive its effortless\n start_ms: 73940\n end_ms: 74910\n- text: Who next to get suplexed off the roof ledge\n start_ms: 74910\n end_ms: 77270\n- text: 20 feet in the ground\n start_ms: 77270\n end_ms: 78410\n- text: Pass the blueprints\n start_ms: 78410\n end_ms: 79570\n- text: Life's long\n start_ms: 79570\n end_ms: 80230\n- text: But cut it off short trying to fight strong\n start_ms: 80230\n end_ms: 82380\n- text: You soft think you can handle the force of the 24 inch pythons\n start_ms: 82380\n end_ms: 84910\n- text: Strike one, I cut out your eyes and leave you Ray Charles\n start_ms: 84910\n end_ms: 87240\n- text: Strike two, you outta here nigga, this ain't baseball\n start_ms: 87240\n end_ms: 89820\n- text: It's hardcore - for my street rapping outlaws\n start_ms: 89820\n end_ms: 92310\n- text: Quick to clap something\n start_ms: 92310\n end_ms: 93560\n- text: But rather go out for the South Bronx\n start_ms: 93560\n end_ms: 94860\n- text: South Bronx niggas got it tone\n start_ms: 94860\n end_ms: 96450\n- text: I shoved the shotty chrome up a nigga ass\n start_ms: 96450\n end_ms: 98510\n- text: Stuck a motherfucking maricon cause daddy's home\n start_ms: 98510\n end_ms: 101270\n- text: Kids, don't make me lie to you\n start_ms: 101270\n end_ms: 102520\n- text: Cause everybody can die right now, mami too\n start_ms: 102520\n end_ms: 104690\n- text: Aiyyo I respect ho's who scam food stamps, wics and shit\n start_ms: 104690\n end_ms: 132030\n- text: Also work a nine-to-five driving whips and shit\n start_ms: 132030\n end_ms: 134520\n- text: Gasing niggas for their chips and shit?? laps tops getting over on some offense em shit\n start_ms: 134520\n end_ms: 139470\n- text: You might think I be promoting this songs here for the selling\n start_ms: 139470\n end_ms: 142190\n- text: How we live\n start_ms: 142190\n end_ms: 143000\n- text: Some work, some are career felons\n start_ms: 143000\n end_ms: 144710\n- text: We laugh at house-a-dity ho's and niggas geling not conceded\n start_ms: 144710\n end_ms: 147520\n- text: But Ill show you the feist that reduce the swelling\n start_ms: 147520\n end_ms: 149820\n- text: When my moneys involved, yo anybody's for the snaking\n start_ms: 149820\n end_ms: 152200\n- text: Some niggas who may think is yo fams, the ones thats faking\n start_ms: 152200\n end_ms: 154790\n- text: Lemme find out, dadd'ys stealin my bacon\n start_ms: 154790\n end_ms: 156760\n- text: You see me pull a .9 and start poppin like I'm Turbo from \"Breakin'\"\n start_ms: 156760\n end_ms: 159860\n- text: I had that cat folding, rolling aces no faking\n start_ms: 159860\n end_ms: 162140\n- text: Talk this, dump him in the furnace in the basement\n start_ms: 162140\n end_ms: 164710\n- text: With no traces\n start_ms: 164710\n end_ms: 165770\n- text: Im a hit em first then pay off a witness to spit a verse\n start_ms: 165770\n end_ms: 168410\n- text: To get rid of his dental work\n start_ms: 168410\n end_ms: 169720\n- text: Do ya'll niggas think it will work\n start_ms: 169720\n end_ms: 170940\n- text: Well ima make ya'll believers cause\n start_ms: 170940\n end_ms: 172240\n- text: I'll be damned cuz moneys comin up short like the Keeblers\n start_ms: 172240\n end_ms: 174610\n- text: I make ya'll feel in some breathers\n start_ms: 174610\n end_ms: 176050\n- text: See Sherrif with the heaters\n start_ms: 176050\n end_ms: 177180\n- text: Six in your piece\n start_ms: 177180\n end_ms: 177930\n- text: Leave the shells line your toes like Adidas\n start_ms: 177930\n end_ms: 179760\n- text: This nigga is off the meters\n start_ms: 179760\n end_ms: 180850\n- text: Yrical Glocks, gunnin dem down\n start_ms: 180850\n end_ms: 182690\n- text: Too many Big and Pacs running around\n start_ms: 182690\n end_ms: 184420\n- text: Its just me and the 400 pound\n start_ms: 184420\n end_ms: 185860\n- text: Sunkiss with original sounds\n start_ms: 185860\n end_ms: 188170\n- text: Repping the Bronx, huh\n start_ms: 188170\n end_ms: 189050\n- text: You know we mean now\n start_ms: 189050\n end_ms: 189160\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 189160\nplain: |-\n When there's beef whoo I come through with the cray troops\n Rip up your fucking legs turn them jeans to daisy dukes\n Spray your trucks, spray your coops, spray your Kawasaki bikes\n Starting hockey fights - Tyson lefts Rocky rights\n Your moms a khaki dyke, your father dress in drag\n Stick out his chest and brag how he molest a fag\n Like father like son\n Bet you rock Victoria Sec's sit on the toilet then leak\n And take it raw up your cheeks\n Tonight I might just take a buddha spot\n Dread better take me to the pot\n Ain't no killer I just shoot alot\n I ain't no boxer I just punch alot\n Jabbing niggas in they belly's got them spitting up they lunch alot\n Fuck a Merry Christmas\n Yo thats the terror day\n My father was murdered that night so I don't celebrate\n If santa hit my chimney with them bozo clothes\n Ima make the .44 blow\n Fill his fat ass full of holes holes holes\n\n Why you play\n Knowing that my style is Y2K\n You can die today\n Nigga there's a price to pay\n Fight for game\n We could bounce from night to day\n Cause only one of us is leaving alive, ok?\n\n Who wanna wrestle Chris a.k.a. Pun the exorcist\n Your neck can twist like an owl\n When I piledrive its effortless\n Who next to get suplexed off the roof ledge\n 20 feet in the ground\n Pass the blueprints\n Life's long\n But cut it off short trying to fight strong\n You soft think you can handle the force of the 24 inch pythons\n Strike one, I cut out your eyes and leave you Ray Charles\n Strike two, you outta here nigga, this ain't baseball\n It's hardcore - for my street rapping outlaws\n Quick to clap something\n But rather go out for the South Bronx\n South Bronx niggas got it tone\n I shoved the shotty chrome up a nigga ass\n Stuck a motherfucking maricon cause daddy's home\n Kids, don't make me lie to you\n Cause everybody can die right now, mami too\n\n Aiyyo I respect ho's who scam food stamps, wics and shit\n Also work a nine-to-five driving whips and shit\n Gasing niggas for their chips and shit?? laps tops getting over on some offense em shit\n You might think I be promoting this songs here for the selling\n How we live\n Some work, some are career felons\n We laugh at house-a-dity ho's and niggas geling not conceded\n But Ill show you the feist that reduce the swelling\n When my moneys involved, yo anybody's for the snaking\n Some niggas who may think is yo fams, the ones thats faking\n Lemme find out, dadd'ys stealin my bacon\n You see me pull a .9 and start poppin like I'm Turbo from \"Breakin'\"\n I had that cat folding, rolling aces no faking\n Talk this, dump him in the furnace in the basement\n With no traces\n Im a hit em first then pay off a witness to spit a verse\n To get rid of his dental work\n Do ya'll niggas think it will work\n Well ima make ya'll believers cause\n I'll be damned cuz moneys comin up short like the Keeblers\n I make ya'll feel in some breathers\n See Sherrif with the heaters\n Six in your piece\n Leave the shells line your toes like Adidas\n This nigga is off the meters\n Yrical Glocks, gunnin dem down\n Too many Big and Pacs running around\n Its just me and the 400 pound\n Sunkiss with original sounds\n Repping the Bronx, huh\n You know we mean now\n"},{"id":30164612,"name":"The Return Of The Diaz Bros. (feat. Doo Wop & Pain In Da Ass)","trackName":"The Return Of The Diaz Bros. (feat. Doo Wop & Pain In Da Ass)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\nOkay Tony. listen to me.\nSee those two guys over there?\nThose are the Diaz Brothers\nThey got the biggest distribution of mixtapes\nfrom New York all the way to Tucson, Arizona\nYou know anything - don't fuck with them Tony\nThey will stick you underneath the fucking ground\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nAiy, hey FUCK THE DIAZ BROTHERS huh?\nI bury those motherfuckers\nWHO THE FUCK is the Diaz Brothers?\nYou come and step to me? Hey fuck you!\n\n[Tony Touch and Doo Wop]\nIf you (if you) wanna know (wanna know)\nA little story, about the two.\nWell let me tell you we're the Diaz Brothers bitch\nand we doin this just for you (what?) yo yo\nsaid we doin this just for you (what?) uh uh\nsaid we doin it. yeah we doin it.\n\n[Tony Touch]\nWell it's the rap Tito Fuente, mira mira frente\nRepresent my people, 'ju know mi gente\nYeah, everyday all day para siempre\nDiaz Brothers, stay caliente\nHot to death, when me and Wop rock the set\nB.K. to B.X. straight lockin it (yeah)\nAll y'all other DJ's be poppin shit\nbut when we come around the way I do the opposite\nWhat's the deal with all that hypocrisy?\nOn the real y'all need to stop jockin we\nLike KRS-One, here's \"My Philosophy\"\nSettin it off, with my monopoly\nIf it ain't over, it's about to be\nand it damn sure ain't nuttin stoppin me\nSangalo, Toca, cantalo\nCri-mi-nal, tremendous scan-da-lo, what?\n\n[speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\nOkay Tony, you're going too far now\nThese motherfuckers will kill you\nThey'll cut off your fuckin testicles\nand shove it up your fuckin ass\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nFUCK THAT! COME ON! You want a war?\nYou fuckin wit Pain in Da Ass;\nyou're fuckin wit the best motherfucker!\nI'll stick your fuckin head up ju' fuckin ass\nthen I'll molest your fuckin kids. FUCK YOU!\n\n[Doo Wop]\nYo. yo yo yo yo yo yo\nOn some Prodigy shit, chain drop to my dick\nNo chokers, exotic shit swingin like Sosa\nAt the Copa, with Tone Toca, opposite of sob-ah\nLots of Henny-lo and Coca-Cola\nBlend tape hoe glock tre-eight blowers\nHeavyweight holders, got every state sewed up\nNiggaz broke? Nah, pockets Al Roker\nBudget like Trinidad and De La Hoya\nSeptember 18th, Mixtape Kingz walk up in the ring\nGrey minks, turntables hangin on links\nPoli' with chinks - the main attaction - Wally's dyed pink\nShirt matchin, thug fashion, Thug Passion\ncompliments of Don King, it's a Don thing\nFuck a drink, still schemein on that charm King\nChill son, put away the toast, make a toast\nto the hated most, Puerto Rican \"Rae' and Ghost\"\n\n[Doo Wop and Tony Touch]\nWop and Tone never leavin the hoes alone\nAnd all the hoes never leavin US alone\nAnd Wop and Tone never leavin the chrome at home\nin case we gotta put four up in your dome\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nTake this fuckin shit\nYou know WHY THE FUCKIN PEOPLE LOVE ME?\nCause I'm FUCKIN REAL!\nI tell you what the FUCK'S on my mind, OKAY?!\n\n[Tony Touch]\nOkay.\nIt's the Return of the Jedi;\nnow tell me who the hell said I\ncouldn't bring it to any boriqua tierras\nFrom L.A. back to N.Y. on the red eye\nToca, holdin it down on the M-I\n(The M.O.) used to be \"Listen to My Demo\"\nAll dem vogue now with no problemo\nBefore I do a show, have my dinero\nI'm talkin to all you pendejos!\n\n[Doo Wop]\nYo. yo yo\nMy rhymes get spit like a gajo\nMy nines get the clips with the hollows\nFive carat chips in my Movado\nDoo Wop, spic half Cubano\nwho copped six and used to have the milano\nwho got your main chain vicked at the Apollo\nwhere Eric B. and Rakim would \"Follow, the Leader\"\nMany nights got my dick swallowed at the Fever\nby any white black or Pediqua, Maria, Chiniqua\nHad em all player, fucked em and played em\nYou loved em and date em\nGave em an ultimatum\nTalk about that kid Wop, I hate him\nSo cut him off or I'ma blaze him -\nBROTHER YOU'RE SOFT\n\n[Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\nYou come and step to me? Hey FUCK YOU!\nThose guys they fuckin talk too much\nAll they concerned about is fuckin pussy and drinking\nThe booze, and the coochie\nI got those guys fuckin soft man\nThey can't fuck with me\nI'll bury those fuckin cock-a-roaches\nFUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Return Of The Diaz Bros. (feat. Doo Wop & Pain In Da Ass)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 206000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\n Okay Tony. listen to me.\n See those two guys over there?\n Those are the Diaz Brothers\n They got the biggest distribution of mixtapes\n from New York all the way to Tucson, Arizona\n You know anything - don't fuck with them Tony\n They will stick you underneath the fucking ground\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n Aiy, hey FUCK THE DIAZ BROTHERS huh?\n I bury those motherfuckers\n WHO THE FUCK is the Diaz Brothers?\n You come and step to me? Hey fuck you!\n\n [Tony Touch and Doo Wop]\n If you (if you) wanna know (wanna know)\n A little story, about the two.\n Well let me tell you we're the Diaz Brothers bitch\n and we doin this just for you (what?) yo yo\n said we doin this just for you (what?) uh uh\n said we doin it. yeah we doin it.\n\n [Tony Touch]\n Well it's the rap Tito Fuente, mira mira frente\n Represent my people, 'ju know mi gente\n Yeah, everyday all day para siempre\n Diaz Brothers, stay caliente\n Hot to death, when me and Wop rock the set\n B.K. to B.X. straight lockin it (yeah)\n All y'all other DJ's be poppin shit\n but when we come around the way I do the opposite\n What's the deal with all that hypocrisy?\n On the real y'all need to stop jockin we\n Like KRS-One, here's \"My Philosophy\"\n Settin it off, with my monopoly\n If it ain't over, it's about to be\n and it damn sure ain't nuttin stoppin me\n Sangalo, Toca, cantalo\n Cri-mi-nal, tremendous scan-da-lo, what?\n\n [speaking to Pain in Da Ass]\n Okay Tony, you're going too far now\n These motherfuckers will kill you\n They'll cut off your fuckin testicles\n and shove it up your fuckin ass\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n FUCK THAT! COME ON! You want a war?\n You fuckin wit Pain in Da Ass;\n you're fuckin wit the best motherfucker!\n I'll stick your fuckin head up ju' fuckin ass\n then I'll molest your fuckin kids. FUCK YOU!\n\n [Doo Wop]\n Yo. yo yo yo yo yo yo\n On some Prodigy shit, chain drop to my dick\n No chokers, exotic shit swingin like Sosa\n At the Copa, with Tone Toca, opposite of sob-ah\n Lots of Henny-lo and Coca-Cola\n Blend tape hoe glock tre-eight blowers\n Heavyweight holders, got every state sewed up\n Niggaz broke? Nah, pockets Al Roker\n Budget like Trinidad and De La Hoya\n September 18th, Mixtape Kingz walk up in the ring\n Grey minks, turntables hangin on links\n Poli' with chinks - the main attaction - Wally's dyed pink\n Shirt matchin, thug fashion, Thug Passion\n compliments of Don King, it's a Don thing\n Fuck a drink, still schemein on that charm King\n Chill son, put away the toast, make a toast\n to the hated most, Puerto Rican \"Rae' and Ghost\"\n\n [Doo Wop and Tony Touch]\n Wop and Tone never leavin the hoes alone\n And all the hoes never leavin US alone\n And Wop and Tone never leavin the chrome at home\n in case we gotta put four up in your dome\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n Take this fuckin shit\n You know WHY THE FUCKIN PEOPLE LOVE ME?\n Cause I'm FUCKIN REAL!\n I tell you what the FUCK'S on my mind, OKAY?!\n\n [Tony Touch]\n Okay.\n It's the Return of the Jedi;\n now tell me who the hell said I\n couldn't bring it to any boriqua tierras\n From L.A. back to N.Y. on the red eye\n Toca, holdin it down on the M-I\n (The M.O.) used to be \"Listen to My Demo\"\n All dem vogue now with no problemo\n Before I do a show, have my dinero\n I'm talkin to all you pendejos!\n\n [Doo Wop]\n Yo. yo yo\n My rhymes get spit like a gajo\n My nines get the clips with the hollows\n Five carat chips in my Movado\n Doo Wop, spic half Cubano\n who copped six and used to have the milano\n who got your main chain vicked at the Apollo\n where Eric B. and Rakim would \"Follow, the Leader\"\n Many nights got my dick swallowed at the Fever\n by any white black or Pediqua, Maria, Chiniqua\n Had em all player, fucked em and played em\n You loved em and date em\n Gave em an ultimatum\n Talk about that kid Wop, I hate him\n So cut him off or I'ma blaze him -\n BROTHER YOU'RE SOFT\n\n [Pain in Da Ass - imitating \"Scarface\"]\n You come and step to me? Hey FUCK YOU!\n Those guys they fuckin talk too much\n All they concerned about is fuckin pussy and drinking\n The booze, and the coochie\n I got those guys fuckin soft man\n They can't fuck with me\n I'll bury those fuckin cock-a-roaches\n FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!\n"},{"id":29555630,"name":"The Abduction (feat. Wu-Tang Clan)","trackName":"The Abduction (feat. Wu-Tang Clan)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":209.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Okay, the GZA\nTony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\nWe gonna bang y'all in the head one time\nBlaze up on y'all one time real fast\n(Do the mix and all that shit)\nKnamsayin', word up\n(Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\nThrow ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n(Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\nI take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\nTo the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\nPentab professional, hold the ink\nWhile river rats fall off the raft and sink\nTony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\nThe way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\nAllah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\nQuick to quake a label-mate\nThe sound came outta rusted crate\nSurrounded by cobwebs\nBeat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\nOn a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\nWu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\nWe killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\nPacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\nWhether plugged in or plugged out\nIron drill mugged or thugged out\nBlood in or blood out, son was bugged out\nMight look at you and slice you\nBuck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\nWho the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\nAllowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\nRuler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\nWe teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\nMurder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\nDon't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\nI'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\nYou see the Wu W raised in black fists\nMaybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\nThe ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\nWas only appraised at forty-two\nGazed upon by the eyes of multitude\nOf people, who would trade gold for food\nI heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\nOr street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\nBobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\nBreak my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\nPenetrate on mix tape with the legislation\nIllustrate constant elevation\nSpark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\nEndorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\nOff top my unorthodox style of attack\nIs like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\nPack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\nMy light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\nFirst family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\nLoad it in ya head, play it back slow\n\nAct like you know, this is no drill\nMurderous rap revealed goin' for kill\nOn these New York city sidewalks we walk\nCamoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\nKani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\nMy live source movin' across with brute force\nBloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\nFakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\nWords of murder, suspense, and intrigue\nMake major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\nMy Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\nSqueeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\nTony's Touch create more gold than Midas\nYa highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\nFrosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\nLampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\nBoat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\nSwung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\nTimb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\nTo ever single seat, I smack flames\nStaten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\nThrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\nNickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\nAnd the limelights of Cuba Gooding\nLost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\nBe duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\nTony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\nBig Face Ghost in effect","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.47] Okay, the GZA\n[00:05.56] Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n[00:09.97] We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n[00:12.07] Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n[00:13.73] (Do the mix and all that shit)\n[00:15.30] Knamsayin', word up\n[00:16.83] (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n[00:18.20] Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n[00:18.92] (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n[00:19.23] I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n[00:21.94] To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n[00:24.14] Pentab professional, hold the ink\n[00:26.61] While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n[00:28.96] Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n[00:31.48] The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n[00:33.86] Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n[00:36.30] Quick to quake a label-mate\n[00:38.07] The sound came outta rusted crate\n[00:39.45] Surrounded by cobwebs\n[00:41.38] Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n[00:43.44] On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n[00:46.02] Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n[00:48.32] We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n[00:50.58] Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n[00:52.97] Whether plugged in or plugged out\n[00:54.74] Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n[00:56.26] Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n[00:58.15] Might look at you and slice you\n[01:00.24] Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n[01:02.20] Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n[01:05.16] Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n[01:07.11] Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n[01:09.47] We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n[01:12.94] Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n[01:16.98] Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n[01:19.51] I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n[01:21.84] You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n[01:24.32] Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n[01:26.61] The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n[01:29.16] Was only appraised at forty-two\n[01:31.46] Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n[01:33.85] Of people, who would trade gold for food\n[01:35.91] I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n[01:38.77] Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n[01:40.92] Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n[01:43.59] Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n[01:45.93] Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n[01:48.82] Illustrate constant elevation\n[01:50.57] Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n[01:53.29] Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n[01:55.20] Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n[01:57.51] Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n[02:00.02] Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n[02:02.72] My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n[02:05.00] First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n[02:07.89] Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n[02:10.16] Act like you know, this is no drill\n[02:12.46] Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n[02:14.74] On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n[02:16.91] Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n[02:19.37] Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n[02:21.92] My live source movin' across with brute force\n[02:24.22] Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n[02:26.84] Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n[02:29.04] Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n[02:31.12] Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n[02:33.65] My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n[02:36.48] Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n[02:38.53] Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n[02:41.16] Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n[02:43.65] Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n[02:46.39] Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n[02:48.52] Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n[02:50.86] Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n[02:53.07] Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n[02:56.05] To ever single seat, I smack flames\n[02:58.06] Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n[03:00.30] Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n[03:02.77] Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n[03:06.03] And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n[03:07.50] Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n[03:10.07] Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n[03:13.75] Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n[03:17.42] Big Face Ghost in effect\n[03:23.70] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Abduction (feat. Wu-Tang Clan)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 209000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Okay, the GZA\n start_ms: 2470\n end_ms: 5560\n- text: Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n start_ms: 5560\n end_ms: 9970\n- text: We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n start_ms: 9970\n end_ms: 12070\n- text: Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n start_ms: 12070\n end_ms: 13730\n- text: (Do the mix and all that shit)\n start_ms: 13730\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Knamsayin', word up\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16830\n- text: (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n start_ms: 16830\n end_ms: 18200\n- text: Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n start_ms: 18200\n end_ms: 18920\n- text: (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n start_ms: 18920\n end_ms: 19230\n- text: I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n start_ms: 19230\n end_ms: 21940\n- text: To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n start_ms: 21940\n end_ms: 24140\n- text: Pentab professional, hold the ink\n start_ms: 24140\n end_ms: 26610\n- text: While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n start_ms: 26610\n end_ms: 28960\n- text: Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n start_ms: 28960\n end_ms: 31480\n- text: The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n start_ms: 31480\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 36300\n- text: Quick to quake a label-mate\n start_ms: 36300\n end_ms: 38070\n- text: The sound came outta rusted crate\n start_ms: 38070\n end_ms: 39450\n- text: Surrounded by cobwebs\n start_ms: 39450\n end_ms: 41380\n- text: Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n start_ms: 41380\n end_ms: 43440\n- text: On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n start_ms: 43440\n end_ms: 46020\n- text: Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n start_ms: 46020\n end_ms: 48320\n- text: We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n start_ms: 48320\n end_ms: 50580\n- text: Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n start_ms: 50580\n end_ms: 52970\n- text: Whether plugged in or plugged out\n start_ms: 52970\n end_ms: 54740\n- text: Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n start_ms: 54740\n end_ms: 56260\n- text: Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n start_ms: 56260\n end_ms: 58150\n- text: Might look at you and slice you\n start_ms: 58150\n end_ms: 60240\n- text: Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n start_ms: 60240\n end_ms: 62200\n- text: Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n start_ms: 62200\n end_ms: 65160\n- text: Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n start_ms: 65160\n end_ms: 67110\n- text: Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n start_ms: 67110\n end_ms: 69470\n- text: We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n start_ms: 69470\n end_ms: 72940\n- text: Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n start_ms: 72940\n end_ms: 76980\n- text: Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n start_ms: 76980\n end_ms: 79510\n- text: I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n start_ms: 79510\n end_ms: 81840\n- text: You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n start_ms: 81840\n end_ms: 84320\n- text: Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n start_ms: 84320\n end_ms: 86610\n- text: The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n start_ms: 86610\n end_ms: 89160\n- text: Was only appraised at forty-two\n start_ms: 89160\n end_ms: 91460\n- text: Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n start_ms: 91460\n end_ms: 93850\n- text: Of people, who would trade gold for food\n start_ms: 93850\n end_ms: 95910\n- text: I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n start_ms: 95910\n end_ms: 98770\n- text: Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n start_ms: 98770\n end_ms: 100920\n- text: Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n start_ms: 100920\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 105930\n- text: Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n start_ms: 105930\n end_ms: 108820\n- text: Illustrate constant elevation\n start_ms: 108820\n end_ms: 110570\n- text: Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n start_ms: 110570\n end_ms: 113290\n- text: Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n start_ms: 113290\n end_ms: 115200\n- text: Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n start_ms: 115200\n end_ms: 117510\n- text: Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n start_ms: 117510\n end_ms: 120020\n- text: Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n start_ms: 120020\n end_ms: 122720\n- text: My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n start_ms: 122720\n end_ms: 125000\n- text: First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n start_ms: 125000\n end_ms: 127890\n- text: Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n start_ms: 127890\n end_ms: 130160\n- text: Act like you know, this is no drill\n start_ms: 130160\n end_ms: 132460\n- text: Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n start_ms: 132460\n end_ms: 134740\n- text: On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n start_ms: 134740\n end_ms: 136910\n- text: Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n start_ms: 136910\n end_ms: 139370\n- text: Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n start_ms: 139370\n end_ms: 141920\n- text: My live source movin' across with brute force\n start_ms: 141920\n end_ms: 144220\n- text: Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n start_ms: 144220\n end_ms: 146840\n- text: Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n start_ms: 146840\n end_ms: 149040\n- text: Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n start_ms: 149040\n end_ms: 151120\n- text: Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n start_ms: 151120\n end_ms: 153650\n- text: My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n start_ms: 153650\n end_ms: 156480\n- text: Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n start_ms: 156480\n end_ms: 158530\n- text: Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n start_ms: 158530\n end_ms: 161160\n- text: Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n start_ms: 161160\n end_ms: 163650\n- text: Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n start_ms: 163650\n end_ms: 166390\n- text: Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n start_ms: 166390\n end_ms: 168520\n- text: Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n start_ms: 168520\n end_ms: 170860\n- text: Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n start_ms: 170860\n end_ms: 173070\n- text: Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n start_ms: 173070\n end_ms: 176050\n- text: To ever single seat, I smack flames\n start_ms: 176050\n end_ms: 178060\n- text: Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n start_ms: 178060\n end_ms: 180300\n- text: Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n start_ms: 180300\n end_ms: 182770\n- text: Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n start_ms: 182770\n end_ms: 186030\n- text: And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n start_ms: 186030\n end_ms: 187500\n- text: Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n start_ms: 187500\n end_ms: 190070\n- text: Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n start_ms: 190070\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n start_ms: 193750\n end_ms: 197420\n- text: Big Face Ghost in effect\n start_ms: 197420\n end_ms: 203700\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 203700\nplain: |-\n Okay, the GZA\n Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n (Do the mix and all that shit)\n Knamsayin', word up\n (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\n I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n Pentab professional, hold the ink\n While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\n Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n Quick to quake a label-mate\n The sound came outta rusted crate\n Surrounded by cobwebs\n Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\n We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\n Whether plugged in or plugged out\n Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n Might look at you and slice you\n Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\n We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\n Was only appraised at forty-two\n Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n Of people, who would trade gold for food\n I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\n Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n Illustrate constant elevation\n Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\n Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n\n Act like you know, this is no drill\n Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n My live source movin' across with brute force\n Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\n Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\n Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n To ever single seat, I smack flames\n Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\n Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n Big Face Ghost in effect\n"},{"id":20764518,"name":"The Abduction (ft Wu-Tang Clan","trackName":"The Abduction (ft Wu-Tang Clan","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":206.275042,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Okay, the GZA\nTony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\nWe gonna bang y'all in the head one time\nBlaze up on y'all one time real fast\n(Do the mix and all that shit)\nKnamsayin', word up\n(Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\nThrow ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n(Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\nI take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\nTo the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\nPentab professional, hold the ink\nWhile river rats fall off the raft and sink\nTony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\nThe way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\nAllah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\nQuick to quake a label-mate\nThe sound came outta rusted crate\nSurrounded by cobwebs\nBeat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\nOn a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\nWu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\nWe killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\nPacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\nWhether plugged in or plugged out\nIron drill mugged or thugged out\nBlood in or blood out, son was bugged out\nMight look at you and slice you\nBuck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\nWho the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\nAllowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\nRuler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\nWe teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\nMurder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\nDon't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\nI'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\nYou see the Wu W raised in black fists\nMaybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\nThe ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\nWas only appraised at forty-two\nGazed upon by the eyes of multitude\nOf people, who would trade gold for food\nI heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\nOr street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\nBobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\nBreak my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\nPenetrate on mix tape with the legislation\nIllustrate constant elevation\nSpark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\nEndorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\nOff top my unorthodox style of attack\nIs like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\nPack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\nMy light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\nFirst family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\nLoad it in ya head, play it back slow\n\nAct like you know, this is no drill\nMurderous rap revealed goin' for kill\nOn these New York city sidewalks we walk\nCamoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\nKani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\nMy live source movin' across with brute force\nBloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\nFakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\nWords of murder, suspense, and intrigue\nMake major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\nMy Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\nSqueeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\nTony's Touch create more gold than Midas\nYa highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\nFrosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\nLampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\nBoat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\nSwung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\nTimb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\nTo ever single seat, I smack flames\nStaten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\nThrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\nNickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\nAnd the limelights of Cuba Gooding\nLost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\nBe duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\nTony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\nBig Face Ghost in effect","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.47] Okay, the GZA\n[00:05.56] Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n[00:09.97] We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n[00:12.07] Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n[00:13.73] (Do the mix and all that shit)\n[00:15.30] Knamsayin', word up\n[00:16.83] (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n[00:18.20] Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n[00:18.92] (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n[00:19.23] I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n[00:21.94] To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n[00:24.14] Pentab professional, hold the ink\n[00:26.61] While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n[00:28.96] Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n[00:31.48] The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n[00:33.86] Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n[00:36.30] Quick to quake a label-mate\n[00:38.07] The sound came outta rusted crate\n[00:39.45] Surrounded by cobwebs\n[00:41.38] Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n[00:43.44] On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n[00:46.02] Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n[00:48.32] We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n[00:50.58] Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n[00:52.97] Whether plugged in or plugged out\n[00:54.74] Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n[00:56.26] Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n[00:58.15] Might look at you and slice you\n[01:00.24] Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n[01:02.20] Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n[01:05.16] Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n[01:07.11] Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n[01:09.47] We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n[01:12.94] Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n[01:16.98] Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n[01:19.51] I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n[01:21.84] You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n[01:24.32] Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n[01:26.61] The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n[01:29.16] Was only appraised at forty-two\n[01:31.46] Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n[01:33.85] Of people, who would trade gold for food\n[01:35.91] I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n[01:38.77] Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n[01:40.92] Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n[01:43.59] Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n[01:45.93] Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n[01:48.82] Illustrate constant elevation\n[01:50.57] Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n[01:53.29] Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n[01:55.20] Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n[01:57.51] Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n[02:00.02] Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n[02:02.72] My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n[02:05.00] First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n[02:07.89] Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n[02:10.16] Act like you know, this is no drill\n[02:12.46] Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n[02:14.74] On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n[02:16.91] Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n[02:19.37] Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n[02:21.92] My live source movin' across with brute force\n[02:24.22] Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n[02:26.84] Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n[02:29.04] Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n[02:31.12] Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n[02:33.65] My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n[02:36.48] Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n[02:38.53] Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n[02:41.16] Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n[02:43.65] Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n[02:46.39] Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n[02:48.52] Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n[02:50.86] Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n[02:53.07] Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n[02:56.05] To ever single seat, I smack flames\n[02:58.06] Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n[03:00.30] Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n[03:02.77] Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n[03:06.03] And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n[03:07.50] Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n[03:10.07] Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n[03:13.75] Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n[03:17.42] Big Face Ghost in effect\n[03:23.70] ","lyricsfile":"version: 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worthless\n start_ms: 21940\n end_ms: 24140\n- text: Pentab professional, hold the ink\n start_ms: 24140\n end_ms: 26610\n- text: While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n start_ms: 26610\n end_ms: 28960\n- text: Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n start_ms: 28960\n end_ms: 31480\n- text: The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n start_ms: 31480\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 36300\n- text: Quick to quake a label-mate\n start_ms: 36300\n end_ms: 38070\n- text: The sound came outta rusted crate\n start_ms: 38070\n end_ms: 39450\n- text: Surrounded by cobwebs\n start_ms: 39450\n end_ms: 41380\n- text: Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n start_ms: 41380\n end_ms: 43440\n- text: On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n start_ms: 43440\n end_ms: 46020\n- text: Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n start_ms: 46020\n end_ms: 48320\n- text: We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n start_ms: 48320\n end_ms: 50580\n- text: Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n start_ms: 50580\n end_ms: 52970\n- text: Whether plugged in or plugged out\n start_ms: 52970\n end_ms: 54740\n- text: Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n start_ms: 54740\n end_ms: 56260\n- text: Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n start_ms: 56260\n end_ms: 58150\n- text: Might look at you and slice you\n start_ms: 58150\n end_ms: 60240\n- text: Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n start_ms: 60240\n end_ms: 62200\n- text: Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n start_ms: 62200\n end_ms: 65160\n- text: Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n start_ms: 65160\n end_ms: 67110\n- text: Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n start_ms: 67110\n end_ms: 69470\n- text: We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n start_ms: 69470\n end_ms: 72940\n- text: Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n start_ms: 72940\n end_ms: 76980\n- text: Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n start_ms: 76980\n end_ms: 79510\n- text: I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n start_ms: 79510\n end_ms: 81840\n- text: You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n start_ms: 81840\n end_ms: 84320\n- text: Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n start_ms: 84320\n end_ms: 86610\n- text: The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n start_ms: 86610\n end_ms: 89160\n- text: Was only appraised at forty-two\n start_ms: 89160\n end_ms: 91460\n- text: Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n start_ms: 91460\n end_ms: 93850\n- text: Of people, who would trade gold for food\n start_ms: 93850\n end_ms: 95910\n- text: I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n start_ms: 95910\n end_ms: 98770\n- text: Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n start_ms: 98770\n end_ms: 100920\n- text: Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n start_ms: 100920\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 105930\n- text: Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n start_ms: 105930\n end_ms: 108820\n- text: Illustrate constant elevation\n start_ms: 108820\n end_ms: 110570\n- text: Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n start_ms: 110570\n end_ms: 113290\n- text: Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n start_ms: 113290\n end_ms: 115200\n- text: Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n start_ms: 115200\n end_ms: 117510\n- text: Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n start_ms: 117510\n end_ms: 120020\n- text: Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n start_ms: 120020\n end_ms: 122720\n- text: My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n start_ms: 122720\n end_ms: 125000\n- text: First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n start_ms: 125000\n end_ms: 127890\n- text: Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n start_ms: 127890\n end_ms: 130160\n- text: Act like you know, this is no drill\n start_ms: 130160\n end_ms: 132460\n- text: Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n start_ms: 132460\n end_ms: 134740\n- text: On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n start_ms: 134740\n end_ms: 136910\n- text: Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n start_ms: 136910\n end_ms: 139370\n- text: Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n start_ms: 139370\n end_ms: 141920\n- text: My live source movin' across with brute force\n start_ms: 141920\n end_ms: 144220\n- text: Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n start_ms: 144220\n end_ms: 146840\n- text: Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n start_ms: 146840\n end_ms: 149040\n- text: Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n start_ms: 149040\n end_ms: 151120\n- text: Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n start_ms: 151120\n end_ms: 153650\n- text: My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n start_ms: 153650\n end_ms: 156480\n- text: Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n start_ms: 156480\n end_ms: 158530\n- text: Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n start_ms: 158530\n end_ms: 161160\n- text: Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n start_ms: 161160\n end_ms: 163650\n- text: Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n start_ms: 163650\n end_ms: 166390\n- text: Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n start_ms: 166390\n end_ms: 168520\n- text: Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n start_ms: 168520\n end_ms: 170860\n- text: Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n start_ms: 170860\n end_ms: 173070\n- text: Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n start_ms: 173070\n end_ms: 176050\n- text: To ever single seat, I smack flames\n start_ms: 176050\n end_ms: 178060\n- text: Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n start_ms: 178060\n end_ms: 180300\n- text: Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n start_ms: 180300\n end_ms: 182770\n- text: Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n start_ms: 182770\n end_ms: 186030\n- text: And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n start_ms: 186030\n end_ms: 187500\n- text: Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n start_ms: 187500\n end_ms: 190070\n- text: Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n start_ms: 190070\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n start_ms: 193750\n end_ms: 197420\n- text: Big Face Ghost in effect\n start_ms: 197420\n end_ms: 203700\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 203700\nplain: |-\n Okay, the GZA\n Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n (Do the mix and all that shit)\n Knamsayin', word up\n (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\n I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n Pentab professional, hold the ink\n While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\n Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n Quick to quake a label-mate\n The sound came outta rusted crate\n Surrounded by cobwebs\n Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\n We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\n Whether plugged in or plugged out\n Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n Might look at you and slice you\n Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\n We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\n Was only appraised at forty-two\n Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n Of people, who would trade gold for food\n I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\n Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n Illustrate constant elevation\n Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\n Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n\n Act like you know, this is no drill\n Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n My live source movin' across with brute force\n Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\n Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\n Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n To ever single seat, I smack flames\n Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\n Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n Big Face Ghost in effect\n"},{"id":16058146,"name":"The Abduction (feat. Wu-Tang Clan)","trackName":"The Abduction (feat. Wu-Tang Clan)","artistName":"Tony Touch","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":206.24625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Okay, the GZA\nTony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\nWe gonna bang y'all in the head one time\nBlaze up on y'all one time real fast\n(Do the mix and all that shit)\nKnamsayin', word up\n(Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\nThrow ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n(Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\nI take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\nTo the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\nPentab professional, hold the ink\nWhile river rats fall off the raft and sink\nTony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\nThe way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\nAllah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\nQuick to quake a label-mate\nThe sound came outta rusted crate\nSurrounded by cobwebs\nBeat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\nOn a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\nWu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\nWe killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\nPacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\nWhether plugged in or plugged out\nIron drill mugged or thugged out\nBlood in or blood out, son was bugged out\nMight look at you and slice you\nBuck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\nWho the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\nAllowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\nRuler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\nWe teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\nMurder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\nDon't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\nI'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\nYou see the Wu W raised in black fists\nMaybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\nThe ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\nWas only appraised at forty-two\nGazed upon by the eyes of multitude\nOf people, who would trade gold for food\nI heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\nOr street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\nBobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\nBreak my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\nPenetrate on mix tape with the legislation\nIllustrate constant elevation\nSpark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\nEndorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\nOff top my unorthodox style of attack\nIs like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\nPack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\nMy light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\nFirst family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\nLoad it in ya head, play it back slow\n\nAct like you know, this is no drill\nMurderous rap revealed goin' for kill\nOn these New York city sidewalks we walk\nCamoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\nKani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\nMy live source movin' across with brute force\nBloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\nFakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\nWords of murder, suspense, and intrigue\nMake major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\nMy Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\nSqueeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\nTony's Touch create more gold than Midas\nYa highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\nFrosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\nLampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\nBoat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\nSwung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\nTimb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\nTo ever single seat, I smack flames\nStaten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\nThrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\nNickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\nAnd the limelights of Cuba Gooding\nLost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\nBe duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\nTony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\nBig Face Ghost in effect","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.47] Okay, the GZA\n[00:05.56] Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n[00:09.97] We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n[00:12.07] Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n[00:13.73] (Do the mix and all that shit)\n[00:15.30] Knamsayin', word up\n[00:16.83] (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n[00:18.20] Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n[00:18.92] (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n[00:19.23] I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n[00:21.94] To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n[00:24.14] Pentab professional, hold the ink\n[00:26.61] While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n[00:28.96] Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n[00:31.48] The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n[00:33.86] Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n[00:36.30] Quick to quake a label-mate\n[00:38.07] The sound came outta rusted crate\n[00:39.45] Surrounded by cobwebs\n[00:41.38] Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n[00:43.44] On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n[00:46.02] Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n[00:48.32] We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n[00:50.58] Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n[00:52.97] Whether plugged in or plugged out\n[00:54.74] Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n[00:56.26] Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n[00:58.15] Might look at you and slice you\n[01:00.24] Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n[01:02.20] Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n[01:05.16] Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n[01:07.11] Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n[01:09.47] We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n[01:12.94] Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n[01:16.98] Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n[01:19.51] I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n[01:21.84] You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n[01:24.32] Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n[01:26.61] The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n[01:29.16] Was only appraised at forty-two\n[01:31.46] Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n[01:33.85] Of people, who would trade gold for food\n[01:35.91] I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n[01:38.77] Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n[01:40.92] Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n[01:43.59] Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n[01:45.93] Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n[01:48.82] Illustrate constant elevation\n[01:50.57] Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n[01:53.29] Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n[01:55.20] Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n[01:57.51] Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n[02:00.02] Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n[02:02.72] My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n[02:05.00] First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n[02:07.89] Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n[02:10.16] Act like you know, this is no drill\n[02:12.46] Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n[02:14.74] On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n[02:16.91] Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n[02:19.37] Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n[02:21.92] My live source movin' across with brute force\n[02:24.22] Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n[02:26.84] Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n[02:29.04] Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n[02:31.12] Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n[02:33.65] My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n[02:36.48] Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n[02:38.53] Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n[02:41.16] Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n[02:43.65] Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n[02:46.39] Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n[02:48.52] Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n[02:50.86] Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n[02:53.07] Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n[02:56.05] To ever single seat, I smack flames\n[02:58.06] Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n[03:00.30] Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n[03:02.77] Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n[03:06.03] And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n[03:07.50] Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n[03:10.07] Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n[03:13.75] Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n[03:17.42] Big Face Ghost in effect\n[03:23.70] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Abduction (feat. Wu-Tang Clan)\n artist: Tony Touch\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 206246\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Okay, the GZA\n start_ms: 2470\n end_ms: 5560\n- text: Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n start_ms: 5560\n end_ms: 9970\n- text: We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n start_ms: 9970\n end_ms: 12070\n- text: Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n start_ms: 12070\n end_ms: 13730\n- text: (Do the mix and all that shit)\n start_ms: 13730\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Knamsayin', word up\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16830\n- text: (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n start_ms: 16830\n end_ms: 18200\n- text: Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n start_ms: 18200\n end_ms: 18920\n- text: (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n start_ms: 18920\n end_ms: 19230\n- text: I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n start_ms: 19230\n end_ms: 21940\n- text: To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n start_ms: 21940\n end_ms: 24140\n- text: Pentab professional, hold the ink\n start_ms: 24140\n end_ms: 26610\n- text: While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n start_ms: 26610\n end_ms: 28960\n- text: Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n start_ms: 28960\n end_ms: 31480\n- text: The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n start_ms: 31480\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 36300\n- text: Quick to quake a label-mate\n start_ms: 36300\n end_ms: 38070\n- text: The sound came outta rusted crate\n start_ms: 38070\n end_ms: 39450\n- text: Surrounded by cobwebs\n start_ms: 39450\n end_ms: 41380\n- text: Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n start_ms: 41380\n end_ms: 43440\n- text: On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n start_ms: 43440\n end_ms: 46020\n- text: Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n start_ms: 46020\n end_ms: 48320\n- text: We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n start_ms: 48320\n end_ms: 50580\n- text: Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n start_ms: 50580\n end_ms: 52970\n- text: Whether plugged in or plugged out\n start_ms: 52970\n end_ms: 54740\n- text: Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n start_ms: 54740\n end_ms: 56260\n- text: Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n start_ms: 56260\n end_ms: 58150\n- text: Might look at you and slice you\n start_ms: 58150\n end_ms: 60240\n- text: Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n start_ms: 60240\n end_ms: 62200\n- text: Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n start_ms: 62200\n end_ms: 65160\n- text: Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n start_ms: 65160\n end_ms: 67110\n- text: Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n start_ms: 67110\n end_ms: 69470\n- text: We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n start_ms: 69470\n end_ms: 72940\n- text: Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n start_ms: 72940\n end_ms: 76980\n- text: Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n start_ms: 76980\n end_ms: 79510\n- text: I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n start_ms: 79510\n end_ms: 81840\n- text: You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n start_ms: 81840\n end_ms: 84320\n- text: Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n start_ms: 84320\n end_ms: 86610\n- text: The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n start_ms: 86610\n end_ms: 89160\n- text: Was only appraised at forty-two\n start_ms: 89160\n end_ms: 91460\n- text: Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n start_ms: 91460\n end_ms: 93850\n- text: Of people, who would trade gold for food\n start_ms: 93850\n end_ms: 95910\n- text: I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n start_ms: 95910\n end_ms: 98770\n- text: Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n start_ms: 98770\n end_ms: 100920\n- text: Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n start_ms: 100920\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 105930\n- text: Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n start_ms: 105930\n end_ms: 108820\n- text: Illustrate constant elevation\n start_ms: 108820\n end_ms: 110570\n- text: Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n start_ms: 110570\n end_ms: 113290\n- text: Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n start_ms: 113290\n end_ms: 115200\n- text: Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n start_ms: 115200\n end_ms: 117510\n- text: Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n start_ms: 117510\n end_ms: 120020\n- text: Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n start_ms: 120020\n end_ms: 122720\n- text: My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n start_ms: 122720\n end_ms: 125000\n- text: First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n start_ms: 125000\n end_ms: 127890\n- text: Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n start_ms: 127890\n end_ms: 130160\n- text: Act like you know, this is no drill\n start_ms: 130160\n end_ms: 132460\n- text: Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n start_ms: 132460\n end_ms: 134740\n- text: On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n start_ms: 134740\n end_ms: 136910\n- text: Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n start_ms: 136910\n end_ms: 139370\n- text: Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n start_ms: 139370\n end_ms: 141920\n- text: My live source movin' across with brute force\n start_ms: 141920\n end_ms: 144220\n- text: Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n start_ms: 144220\n end_ms: 146840\n- text: Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n start_ms: 146840\n end_ms: 149040\n- text: Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n start_ms: 149040\n end_ms: 151120\n- text: Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n start_ms: 151120\n end_ms: 153650\n- text: My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n start_ms: 153650\n end_ms: 156480\n- text: Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n start_ms: 156480\n end_ms: 158530\n- text: Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n start_ms: 158530\n end_ms: 161160\n- text: Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n start_ms: 161160\n end_ms: 163650\n- text: Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n start_ms: 163650\n end_ms: 166390\n- text: Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n start_ms: 166390\n end_ms: 168520\n- text: Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n start_ms: 168520\n end_ms: 170860\n- text: Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n start_ms: 170860\n end_ms: 173070\n- text: Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n start_ms: 173070\n end_ms: 176050\n- text: To ever single seat, I smack flames\n start_ms: 176050\n end_ms: 178060\n- text: Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n start_ms: 178060\n end_ms: 180300\n- text: Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n start_ms: 180300\n end_ms: 182770\n- text: Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n start_ms: 182770\n end_ms: 186030\n- text: And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n start_ms: 186030\n end_ms: 187500\n- text: Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n start_ms: 187500\n end_ms: 190070\n- text: Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n start_ms: 190070\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n start_ms: 193750\n end_ms: 197420\n- text: Big Face Ghost in effect\n start_ms: 197420\n end_ms: 203700\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 203700\nplain: |-\n Okay, the GZA\n Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n (Do the mix and all that shit)\n Knamsayin', word up\n (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\n I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n Pentab professional, hold the ink\n While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\n Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n Quick to quake a label-mate\n The sound came outta rusted crate\n Surrounded by cobwebs\n Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\n We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\n Whether plugged in or plugged out\n Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n Might look at you and slice you\n Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\n We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\n Was only appraised at forty-two\n Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n Of people, who would trade gold for food\n I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\n Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n Illustrate constant elevation\n Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\n Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n\n Act like you know, this is no drill\n Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n My live source movin' across with brute force\n Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\n Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\n Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n To ever single seat, I smack flames\n Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\n Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n Big Face Ghost in effect\n"},{"id":9589432,"name":"The Abduction (feat. Wu‐Tang Clan)","trackName":"The Abduction (feat. Wu‐Tang Clan)","artistName":"Touch, Tony","albumName":"The Piece Maker","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Okay, the GZA\nTony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\nWe gonna bang y'all in the head one time\nBlaze up on y'all one time real fast\n(Do the mix and all that shit)\nKnamsayin', word up\n(Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\nThrow ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n(Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\nI take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\nTo the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\nPentab professional, hold the ink\nWhile river rats fall off the raft and sink\nTony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\nThe way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\nAllah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\nQuick to quake a label-mate\nThe sound came outta rusted crate\nSurrounded by cobwebs\nBeat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\nOn a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\nWu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\nWe killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\nPacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\nWhether plugged in or plugged out\nIron drill mugged or thugged out\nBlood in or blood out, son was bugged out\nMight look at you and slice you\nBuck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\nWho the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\nAllowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\nRuler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\nWe teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\nMurder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\nDon't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\nI'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\nYou see the Wu W raised in black fists\nMaybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\nThe ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\nWas only appraised at forty-two\nGazed upon by the eyes of multitude\nOf people, who would trade gold for food\nI heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\nOr street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\nBobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\nBreak my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\nPenetrate on mix tape with the legislation\nIllustrate constant elevation\nSpark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\nEndorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\nOff top my unorthodox style of attack\nIs like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\nPack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\nMy light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\nFirst family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\nLoad it in ya head, play it back slow\n\nAct like you know, this is no drill\nMurderous rap revealed goin' for kill\nOn these New York city sidewalks we walk\nCamoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\nKani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\nMy live source movin' across with brute force\nBloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\nFakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\nWords of murder, suspense, and intrigue\nMake major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\nMy Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\nSqueeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\nTony's Touch create more gold than Midas\nYa highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\nFrosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\nLampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\nBoat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\nSwung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\nTimb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\nTo ever single seat, I smack flames\nStaten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\nThrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\nNickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\nAnd the limelights of Cuba Gooding\nLost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\nBe duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\nTony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\nBig Face Ghost in effect","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.47] Okay, the GZA\n[00:05.56] Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n[00:09.97] We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n[00:12.07] Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n[00:13.73] (Do the mix and all that shit)\n[00:15.30] Knamsayin', word up\n[00:16.83] (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n[00:18.20] Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n[00:18.92] (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n[00:19.23] I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n[00:21.94] To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n[00:24.14] Pentab professional, hold the ink\n[00:26.61] While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n[00:28.96] Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n[00:31.48] The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n[00:33.86] Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n[00:36.30] Quick to quake a label-mate\n[00:38.07] The sound came outta rusted crate\n[00:39.45] Surrounded by cobwebs\n[00:41.38] Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n[00:43.44] On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n[00:46.02] Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n[00:48.32] We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n[00:50.58] Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n[00:52.97] Whether plugged in or plugged out\n[00:54.74] Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n[00:56.26] Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n[00:58.15] Might look at you and slice you\n[01:00.24] Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n[01:02.20] Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n[01:05.16] Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n[01:07.11] Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n[01:09.47] We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n[01:12.94] Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n[01:16.98] Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n[01:19.51] I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n[01:21.84] You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n[01:24.32] Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n[01:26.61] The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n[01:29.16] Was only appraised at forty-two\n[01:31.46] Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n[01:33.85] Of people, who would trade gold for food\n[01:35.91] I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n[01:38.77] Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n[01:40.92] Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n[01:43.59] Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n[01:45.93] Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n[01:48.82] Illustrate constant elevation\n[01:50.57] Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n[01:53.29] Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n[01:55.20] Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n[01:57.51] Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n[02:00.02] Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n[02:02.72] My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n[02:05.00] First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n[02:07.89] Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n[02:10.16] Act like you know, this is no drill\n[02:12.46] Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n[02:14.74] On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n[02:16.91] Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n[02:19.37] Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n[02:21.92] My live source movin' across with brute force\n[02:24.22] Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n[02:26.84] Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n[02:29.04] Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n[02:31.12] Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n[02:33.65] My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n[02:36.48] Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n[02:38.53] Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n[02:41.16] Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n[02:43.65] Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n[02:46.39] Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n[02:48.52] Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n[02:50.86] Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n[02:53.07] Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n[02:56.05] To ever single seat, I smack flames\n[02:58.06] Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n[03:00.30] Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n[03:02.77] Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n[03:06.03] And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n[03:07.50] Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n[03:10.07] Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n[03:13.75] Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n[03:17.42] Big Face Ghost in effect\n[03:23.70] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Abduction (feat. Wu‐Tang Clan)\n artist: Touch, Tony\n album: The Piece Maker\n duration_ms: 206000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Okay, the GZA\n start_ms: 2470\n end_ms: 5560\n- text: Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n start_ms: 5560\n end_ms: 9970\n- text: We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n start_ms: 9970\n end_ms: 12070\n- text: Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n start_ms: 12070\n end_ms: 13730\n- text: (Do the mix and all that shit)\n start_ms: 13730\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Knamsayin', word up\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16830\n- text: (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n start_ms: 16830\n end_ms: 18200\n- text: Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n start_ms: 18200\n end_ms: 18920\n- text: (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n start_ms: 18920\n end_ms: 19230\n- text: I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n start_ms: 19230\n end_ms: 21940\n- text: To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n start_ms: 21940\n end_ms: 24140\n- text: Pentab professional, hold the ink\n start_ms: 24140\n end_ms: 26610\n- text: While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n start_ms: 26610\n end_ms: 28960\n- text: Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n start_ms: 28960\n end_ms: 31480\n- text: The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n start_ms: 31480\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 36300\n- text: Quick to quake a label-mate\n start_ms: 36300\n end_ms: 38070\n- text: The sound came outta rusted crate\n start_ms: 38070\n end_ms: 39450\n- text: Surrounded by cobwebs\n start_ms: 39450\n end_ms: 41380\n- text: Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n start_ms: 41380\n end_ms: 43440\n- text: On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n start_ms: 43440\n end_ms: 46020\n- text: Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n start_ms: 46020\n end_ms: 48320\n- text: We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n start_ms: 48320\n end_ms: 50580\n- text: Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n start_ms: 50580\n end_ms: 52970\n- text: Whether plugged in or plugged out\n start_ms: 52970\n end_ms: 54740\n- text: Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n start_ms: 54740\n end_ms: 56260\n- text: Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n start_ms: 56260\n end_ms: 58150\n- text: Might look at you and slice you\n start_ms: 58150\n end_ms: 60240\n- text: Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n start_ms: 60240\n end_ms: 62200\n- text: Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n start_ms: 62200\n end_ms: 65160\n- text: Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n start_ms: 65160\n end_ms: 67110\n- text: Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n start_ms: 67110\n end_ms: 69470\n- text: We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n start_ms: 69470\n end_ms: 72940\n- text: Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n start_ms: 72940\n end_ms: 76980\n- text: Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n start_ms: 76980\n end_ms: 79510\n- text: I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n start_ms: 79510\n end_ms: 81840\n- text: You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n start_ms: 81840\n end_ms: 84320\n- text: Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n start_ms: 84320\n end_ms: 86610\n- text: The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n start_ms: 86610\n end_ms: 89160\n- text: Was only appraised at forty-two\n start_ms: 89160\n end_ms: 91460\n- text: Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n start_ms: 91460\n end_ms: 93850\n- text: Of people, who would trade gold for food\n start_ms: 93850\n end_ms: 95910\n- text: I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n start_ms: 95910\n end_ms: 98770\n- text: Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n start_ms: 98770\n end_ms: 100920\n- text: Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n start_ms: 100920\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 105930\n- text: Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n start_ms: 105930\n end_ms: 108820\n- text: Illustrate constant elevation\n start_ms: 108820\n end_ms: 110570\n- text: Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n start_ms: 110570\n end_ms: 113290\n- text: Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n start_ms: 113290\n end_ms: 115200\n- text: Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n start_ms: 115200\n end_ms: 117510\n- text: Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n start_ms: 117510\n end_ms: 120020\n- text: Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n start_ms: 120020\n end_ms: 122720\n- text: My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n start_ms: 122720\n end_ms: 125000\n- text: First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n start_ms: 125000\n end_ms: 127890\n- text: Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n start_ms: 127890\n end_ms: 130160\n- text: Act like you know, this is no drill\n start_ms: 130160\n end_ms: 132460\n- text: Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n start_ms: 132460\n end_ms: 134740\n- text: On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n start_ms: 134740\n end_ms: 136910\n- text: Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n start_ms: 136910\n end_ms: 139370\n- text: Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n start_ms: 139370\n end_ms: 141920\n- text: My live source movin' across with brute force\n start_ms: 141920\n end_ms: 144220\n- text: Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n start_ms: 144220\n end_ms: 146840\n- text: Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n start_ms: 146840\n end_ms: 149040\n- text: Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n start_ms: 149040\n end_ms: 151120\n- text: Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n start_ms: 151120\n end_ms: 153650\n- text: My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n start_ms: 153650\n end_ms: 156480\n- text: Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n start_ms: 156480\n end_ms: 158530\n- text: Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n start_ms: 158530\n end_ms: 161160\n- text: Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n start_ms: 161160\n end_ms: 163650\n- text: Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n start_ms: 163650\n end_ms: 166390\n- text: Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n start_ms: 166390\n end_ms: 168520\n- text: Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n start_ms: 168520\n end_ms: 170860\n- text: Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n start_ms: 170860\n end_ms: 173070\n- text: Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n start_ms: 173070\n end_ms: 176050\n- text: To ever single seat, I smack flames\n start_ms: 176050\n end_ms: 178060\n- text: Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n start_ms: 178060\n end_ms: 180300\n- text: Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n start_ms: 180300\n end_ms: 182770\n- text: Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n start_ms: 182770\n end_ms: 186030\n- text: And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n start_ms: 186030\n end_ms: 187500\n- text: Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n start_ms: 187500\n end_ms: 190070\n- text: Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n start_ms: 190070\n end_ms: 193750\n- text: Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n start_ms: 193750\n end_ms: 197420\n- text: Big Face Ghost in effect\n start_ms: 197420\n end_ms: 203700\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 203700\nplain: |-\n Okay, the GZA\n Tony Touch classic, knowhatI'msayin'?\n We gonna bang y'all in the head one time\n Blaze up on y'all one time real fast\n (Do the mix and all that shit)\n Knamsayin', word up\n (Make it, make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)\n Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?\n (Yeah, hook it up, make it a record, get down, yo)\n\n I take y'all niggas straight, beneath the surface\n To the core, if it ain't raw it's worthless\n Pentab professional, hold the ink\n While river rats fall off the raft and sink\n Tony let a brother touch, twenty bar rush\n The way we push through equivalent to rocket thrust\n\n Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes\n Quick to quake a label-mate\n The sound came outta rusted crate\n Surrounded by cobwebs\n Beat smooth enough to slide through like bobsleds\n On a cold white snow, plus with the right flow\n Wu-Tang niggaz, they shine and make the mic glow\n\n We killin' all gorillin' with all that screwfacin'\n Pacin' back and forth looking savage, stop it\n\n Whether plugged in or plugged out\n Iron drill mugged or thugged out\n Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out\n Might look at you and slice you\n Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop\n Who the fuck you think, let y'all wild niggas in\n Allowed you to put down ya guns and raise ya pen\n Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig, we don't fuck with no pig\n\n We teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig\n Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces\n Don't worry about the weed or pussy, I read books\n I'm liable to mate'cha king with three rooks\n You see the Wu W raised in black fists\n Maybe Tony Touch, Concord needle will scratch this\n The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's\n\n Was only appraised at forty-two\n Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude\n Of people, who would trade gold for food\n I heard boar's head killed more than nuclear's warhead\n Or street serfs who walk around dressed in all red\n Bobby Digi said if you ever in Compton or Long Beach\n Break my sons Doc Doom and Crisis wit' a nice piece\n\n Penetrate on mix tape with the legislation\n Illustrate constant elevation\n Spark friction, Shaw shank Golden Arm Redemption\n Endorsed my the Masta inscription signature\n\n Off top my unorthodox style of attack\n Is like Hannibal rollin' on elephant's backs\n Pack a long barrel, bustin' off strong ammo\n My light so vast, I cast twenty foot shadows\n First family, fifth cappo, micro to macro\n Load it in ya head, play it back slow\n\n Act like you know, this is no drill\n Murderous rap revealed goin' for kill\n On these New York city sidewalks we walk\n Camoflauge, dodgin' the eyes of the hawk\n Kani Sport, totin' the fifth, slidin' off\n My live source movin' across with brute force\n Bloodsport, anymore heads face the blade\n Fakers must fade, the stakes are now raised\n\n Words of murder, suspense, and intrigue\n Make major league niggaz show signs of fatigue\n My Killer Bees span wider than seven seas\n Squeeze on MC's, with bullet train speed\n Tony's Touch create more gold than Midas\n Ya highness, all in ya head, like ya hair stylus\n\n Frosty mug, big ring leaders top secret thug\n Lampin' in cheaters Orenthal with the murder glove\n Boat of the town, devilish grin look peculiar\n Swung on this faggot, knocked the windows outta Silvia's\n Timb's got scuffed up, my ankles got sprained, that's my word\n To ever single seat, I smack flames\n Staten Island's bayside of teachers of Elijah\n\n Thrown out the temple, non-calodic wit the father\n Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's\n And the limelights of Cuba Gooding\n Lost in the cosmos, explodin' through a quasar\n Be duckin' pulsars, organic stay still be the Gods\n Tony Touch, Tony Touch, word up\n Big Face Ghost in effect\n"}]