Musical Influence

This thread is basically is for lyrics… I see people quoting lyrics everywhere so put your favorite chorus, hooks, verses right here! let it be known!

We’ll im going to start with my nigga Busta Rhymes.

I ain’t watch you when your niggaz’ll try
To feel a wrath of the un-rudely waking of a sleeping giant
(Very defiant), once I give you the pressure
And then I apply it and then your breathing is stop and totally quiet (sss…

Song What’s Happening…

Nigga, I’m what’s happening.

Grand Hustle Richable, Benz Coupe Sixable, Lotta Models Are Kissable, Diamonds Are Wristable, The Finger On My Wrist Is Blue Im The Only Nigga That A Bunch Of People Listen to

Who in the hell wanna battle, the ill mathematical?
My motherfuckin brain is IBM compatible

“Are you tired of the place just down the street? Where they give you more sauce than they give you meat.”

“We’re the minotaur crew, you know how we do. We come through on you, do number 2 on you.”

Either my gun gon? bang or Imma come harder
I run water on y?all lames, I?ll unthaw ya?
Y?all wanna be the kings of rap but son smarter
I rather run some game on one of Run?s daughters.

lemme tell ya now
i came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain
let’s go inside my astral plane
find out my mental based on instrumental
records hey so i can write monumental
methods, im not the king but niggazz is decaf
i stick ‘em for the cream check it
just how deep can shit get get deeper then your fists
and brothers is mad pissed accept it
in your cross colored clothes you crossed over
now youre totally crossed out and kriss kross
who da boss niggazz get tossed to da side
and im the dark side i am the force of course
its the method man from the wu tang clan
i be hectic and comin’ for that head piece protect it
fuck it two tears in a bucket
niggazz want the ruckus? yo bust it at me son now bust it
stylez i get buckwild method man on some shit
fuckin’ niggazz foul son im sick
insane crazy drivin’ miss daisy
how the fuck am i? now i got mine im swayze
is it real son lemme know it’s real son if its really
real son lemme know it’s real
load it up and kill one
load it up and kill one
load it up and kill one
if it’s really real
when i was a little stereo
i used to be the champion
i always wonder
when i will be the number one hey hey hey
and now you listen to me darcon darcon
and all you niggazz come and test me test me
im gonna lick out your brains
brothers wanna hang with the meth bring a rope
cuz the only way you hang is by the neck
nigga pump off a set comin’ through all your projects
take it as a threat or better yet it is a promise
comin’ like a vet on some old vietnam shit
you can bet your bottom dollar that im on it
and itll get even worse word to god its the wu
comin’ through takin niggazz ‘fore they’re
gone gone gone gone gone gone
move’n to your left
i came to represent and carve my name within your chest
you can come test realize it’s no contest son
i’m the gun who won that old wild west
quick on the draw with my hands on the floor
lovin’ all those goddamn funky rhymes galore
check it cuz i think not when its hip hop like propa
rhymes be the proof when im drinkin ninety proof vodka
no o.j. no no straw
when you give it to me yeah give it to me raw i
give it to me raw
i burn
chest hairs
i dont need no chemical blow to pull no ho’ no
all i need is chemical bank to pay her up
is it real son lemme know it’s real son if its really
real son lemme know it’s
1 2 3 4
kill one
fuck it up and kill one
fuck it up and kill one
lemme know it’s real

No they not satisfied, no it’s not enough
make mine bigger, pile it up to the roof
over ya head, I need more bread
even my ego needs to fed

Stakes is High by De La Soul:
:r: Video here

The instamatic focal point bringing damage to your boroughs
Be some brothers from the east with some beats that be thorough
Got the solar gravitation so I’m bound to pull it
I gets down like brothers are found ducking from bullets
Gun control means using both hands in my land
Where it’s all about the cautious livin’
Migrating to a higher form of consequence, compliments
Of strugglin’, that shouldn’t be notable,
Man every word I say should be a hip hop quotable.

I’m sick of bitches shakin’ asses
I’m sick of talkin’ about blunts,
Sick of Versace glasses,
Sick of slang,
Sick of half-ass awards shows,
Sick of name brand clothes.
Sick of R&B bitches over bullshit tracks,
Cocaine and crack
Which brings sickness to blacks,
Sick of swoll’ head rappers
With their sicker-than raps
Clappers and gats
Makin’ the whole sick world collapse
The facts are gettin’ sick
Even sicker perhaps
Stickabush to make a bundle to escape this synapse

Man life can get all up in your ass baby you betta work it out
Let me tell you what it’s all about
A skin not considered equal
A meteor has more right than my people
Who be wastin’ time screaming who they’ve hated
That’s why the Native Tongues have officially been re-instated

Stakes is high
(Higher than high)
You know them stakes is high
(Higher than high)
When we talkin’ ‘bout the
Stakes is high, you know them stakes is high
When we dealin’ with the
Stakes is high
(Hey yo, what about that love?)

Yo, it’s about love for cars, love for funds
Loving to love mad sex, loving to love guns
Love for opposite, love for fame and wealth
Love for the fact of no longer loving yourself, kid
We living in them days of the man-made ways
Where every aspect is vivid,
these brothers no longer talk shit
Hey yo, these niggas live it
’Bout to give it to you 24/7 on the microphone
Plug One translating the zone
No offense to a player, but yo, I don’t play
And if you take offense, fuck it, got to be that way
J.D. Dove, show your love, what you got to say?

I say G’s are making figures at a high regard
And niggas dying for it nowadays ain’t odd
Investing in fantasies and not God
Welcome to reality, see times is hard
People try to snatch the credit, but can’t claim the card
Showing out in videos, saying they cold stars
See, shit like that will make your mama cry
Better watch the way you spend it
’Cause the stakes is high


I think that smiling in public is against the law
’Cause love don’t get you through life no more
It’s who you know and "How you, son?"
And how you gettin’ in, and who the man holding
Hey yo, and how was the scams and how high
Yo what up, huh? I heard you caught a body
Seem like every man and woman shared a life with John Gotti

But they ain’t organized!

Mixing crimes with life enzymes
Taking the big scout route
And niggas know doubt better
Than they know their daughters
And their sons
(Oh boy)

Yo, people go through pain and still don’t gain
Positive contact just like my main man
Who got others cleaning up his physical influence
His mind got congested
He got the nine and blew it
Neighborhoods are now hoods cause nobody’s neighbors
Just animals surviving with that animal behavior
Under I who be rhyming from dark to light sky
Experiments when needles and skin connect
No wonder where we live is called the projects
When them stakes is high you damn sure try to do
Anything to get the piece of the pie
Even die for the cash
But at last I be out even though you wantin’ more
This issue is closed like an elevator door
But soon re-opened once we get to the next floor where the


:cool: Straight classic … dood.


We bag it, then flip it like WHOA!
Cars we jack it then strip it like WHOA!
Fully equip it, front to back, like WHOA!
Spittin on fiends that come for crack like WHOA!
Askin for shorts and shit nigga like WHOA!
Half on his krunk, now nigga that’s WHOA!
Flow so properly you’ll see I’m WHOA!
Ain’t no stoppin me, I’m deep like WHOA!
Guns be poppin B, we creep like WHOA!
Hear my name in these streets it’s like WHOA!
Must I pound the concrete like WHOA!
Fill his bitch ass, head to feet like WHOA!
Your man ain’t WHOA! The judge ain’t WHOA!
C.O.'s ain’t WHOA! P.O.'s ain’t WHOA!
Play y’allself I get the G.I. Joe
D-I-C, K riders ain’t WHOA!
I’ll rip your torso
Live the fast life, come through in the Porshe slow like WHOA!
My niggaz - like dough, light 'dro
Nitro, might flow, nice clothes like WHOA!

Black Rob is Whoa!

Canibus on “Beast from the East”:
:r: Sample here

Canibus brings the sickest drama
fierce enough to pierce the thickest armor
I smack bitches who try to suck dick through the condom
playing with the mic is something I won’t do
my only concern when I approach you, is to roast you
I smoke you and whoever you standing close to
and make every man in your crew deny that he knows you
defeating niggas like Segal, Steven
putting Emcees in positions to prevent them from breathin’
I’ll make you question any and everything you’ve ever believed in
by peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers
what’s the matter with ya’ll, I splatter ya’ll
against the muthafuckin wall with these raw lyrics I catapult
none of ya’ll got the balls big enough to battle
I go On & On like Erykah Badu
a hundred times nicer than the best is
twice as African as KRS is, who wanna test this?
fuck y’all you don’t impress me and no one can test me
an emcee so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch me
all that shit you poppin’ will stop, when I put you in a headlock,
and apply pressure until I crush your muthafuckin noggin
I grab mics and push niggas to the left
so fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chests
my hypothesis, is that nobody can see this
lyrical genius, i got it sown like a seamstress
but if you want to battle, I’m down
if you got nine lives, I’ll take eight of them off your hands right now
step up and get your neck cut from ear to ear
if you survive then you can cover up your scar with a beard
I’m the illest from Queens to the new Jerusalem briddicks
anyone who ain’t feeling my shiddit can suck my diddick
you need to quit it, if you ain’t spittin’
more than 50 bars per minute cause you ain’t in lyrical fitness
kickin’ boring raps with metaphors that’s wack
all of ya’ll muthafuckas need Nordictrack
to get ya weight up, fuckin with Canibus you get ate up
beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my name up
been rockin’ longer than niggas twice my age
back in the days before Bob Marley was rockin’ a fade
before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed slaves
before Neanderthals was drawing on walls in caves
I existed, in the garden of Eden gettin’ lifted
stickin’ dick to Eve before she was Adam’s mistress
before Christ created Christmas, I been in lyrical fitness
the Canibus is spittin’ til’ he’s spitless
50 bars of total sickness, you won’t forget this
I’m puttin’ every wack emcee alive on my shit list
verbally vicious, telekinetically gifted
took you a minute to exhibit that I’m sick wit it
now you tell me who you think is damaging shit
going once, going twice
sold! to that nigga name Canibus
me and Mr.Cheeks, A-Plus, and Funk Doctor
hopping out the Huey helicopter to suey chop ya.

:wonder: One of my favorite’s from Canibus… dood.

ryuusei no ai ga kimi ni isshun no hikari okutteru…
eien no yume o mite…rolling go…

ame ga furi yamazu ni kata o nurasu keredo
SUPIIDO wa yurumenu mama…street go…
soshite toki wa nagare dare mo kawaru keredo
boku wa ano hi no mama…street song…

I want to dive…lost mind…
I want to dive…lost mind…
I want feeling…I want feeling…itsumo…
I want to dive…lost mind…
I want to dive…lost mind…
why, why, why, why? I want to dive!
feeling over…

ryuusei no ai ga kimi ni isshun no hikari okutteru…
eien no yume o mite…lonely go…

nani mo kangaezu ni ima o ikiru dake no
boku o sasaete iru…street song…

I want to dive…lost mind…
I want to dive…lost mind…
why, why, why, why? I want to dive!
feeling over…

ryuusei no ai ga kimi ni isshun no hikari okutteru…
ryuusei no ai ga jibun ni eien no yume okutteru…
going the way…you know…you know…yo…
going the way…you know…you know…yo…


:u: Oh snap! :tup: Shocking Lemon FTW… dood.

it’s my “dart shot->sa.3” training music.



We All Die One Day

We gonna bring it to anybody who want it
you want it? you gonna get it
name em we gon’ hit em, chew em up and spit em out
too much venom and if you role with 'em
we gonna fuck you up with 'em
I got too much momentum moving in my direction to lose
my shoes will explode as soon as you go to step in 'em (BROOM)
you know how we do it when we do how we do it when we come through
G-Unit, D-1-2 and Obie we all move like assassins
ski masks and gloves consider this as a warning
disaster comes faster than you can react to it, just ask Muggs
but we are fizast, fuck your litte bitch ass up
we are not killers, my vato will have you shot-o
drag through the varrio and fucked like Kim Osario
litte sorry hoe ass, go ask B Real
we burn source covers like fucking Cypress Hill
did in the 90s, when you was in diapers still
shady records you better believe the hype is real
this is no joke, I don’t smoke
but I toke enough second hand to make my fucking P.O. choke
I’m an OG, you’re fucking with a GI Joe
Bia Bia, mia meo a vida loca
I’m a psycho, Mariah ain’t got shit on me
when I retire I’ll be spitting baby food on people
a tent sieged on her ranch, huddled up next to her
with Hello Kitty slippers on, humping her legs
you ever had your gap pealed back or your shit pushed in
I put my blade in your like a fucking pin cushion
slice your ear clear off, Smirnoff and Hindoff
I’ll show you how to kill a fucking man like Sen Dog
Nobody told you that I’m loco ese`?
I lack every sane chemical in my membrane
I’m slim sha…dy and the “d” is for deez nuts
and you can get each one for free so feast up
I pee in a cup for three months, I’m having an E party for easter please come

tha nigga emeinem at his finest.


[Lil Wayne talking]
Haters nigga… Squad Up nigga
(“Fuck Jay-Z”)
Naw my nigga I fucks wit Jay-Z Sorry you know what I’m sayin
(“Fuck Jay-Z”)
No no no I fucks wit the homie man…sorry no
(“Fuck Jay-Z”)
Yes we bout to squad this thing out baby Ya’ll ready to squad wit me
Then throw yo guns in the air mu-fucka
If you aint got a gun get the fuck up outta here mu-fucka
Cause we gon’ bust it in ya head mu-fucka
We here mu-fucka yes this is the squad right here
Dawg And no the rhyme aint even start yet bitch
But here we go, come on Wayne


I, young money boy Lil’ Weezy
Hold it for A and Eagle
Cash Money cross the belly
Cash Money Makaveli
We get that fetti fellas we bump that Roc-a-fella
We got it pumpin holla back we crack rocafellas
Nigga my tires better, I’m on them monsta bellas
I got that brown boy or that white consuella
Fee this shit over I got us thats a promise
Let’s go cop two new rovers drop it on Magic Johnsons
Thats 32’s for fools stick to them stuntin’ rules
500 up in ya tummy can you stomach dude
S Q my young’n crew we paid our fuckin dues
Thats why yo bitch is over here suckin and fuckin dudes
Ya’ll niggas want a war bring it it’s nothing dude
This shit too hot to relax bitch dont get comfortable
I fuck with super sammy blanco and fuck the bull
Hydro I puff and pull until I’m duckin full
What are you fuckin crazy come on its Weezy baby

No for real bitch its Weezy baby

Get at me… Lil Wayne… And thats how we do it in the SOUTH!!

Cuz I Paid Paul $100.000 for my Grill…

Here’s a gross freestyle Lil Wayne had on Rap City, N-Ken, and a few others can vouch for it.

Black or blacker
Loser backer
You should back up
blucka blucka
You should suffer
Lose a mother
Fuck your mother
Fuck your brother
That nigga must die like John Tucker
I’m rucker, I’m ill
No for real, I’m the only stingray-in-the-wa-ter that kills
A bad pill, ya’ll sweeter than advil…
While I sit on your girl’s breath like her last meal
I blew up before I grew up
Got introduced to the game now I’m at their heads like crew cuts
Suit up and lace your boots up it’s war time
It’s Weezy baby, no cryin, no lyin
Yall muthafuckas are slippin ya better hold on
I think they trippin like Cedric and Solange
I’m sayin this like I’m hearin it no mind!
I could say “don’t rhyme” and it’s gon rhyme!
slams New Orleans fitted on the ground

Koopa I said I never cheat on my money
Its funny how hoes dont belive me
watch mad-hatter and cat-hatter
but gave it to me becouse I’m greedy
dont be touchin all on my money
cause that make me honey look sleazy
gettin paid is like good sex
becuse my money comes easy
my fat stack be the reason
nappy head hoes wanna trap me
they be like "dont he look exactly like my son he the pappy"
haters be making my doe unhappy
you should gimme my props
for makin my cash the propa way
instead of comin up pop ya

Dont blame us for visions of princess cuts on our fangas(fingers)
Big house’s, candy paint and big swangas eehh
if aint about no money dont call my pager
because My Money Gets Jealous

blame us we ballin so hard
they think we drug slangas
we just entertainers
dont point your fangers yea
I’d rather be rich than be broke and famous
because My Money Gets Jealous

I’ll give rep to whoever can tell me who spit this line, and from what song.

I pray to allah, but I’m too foul to go to the mosque
So if it’s beef, I’ma murder you and know that it’s squashed