Lose Yourself .......... Eminem

Love Me (feat. Obie Trice and 50 Cent) .......... Eminem

8 Mile .......... Eminem

Adrenaline Rush .......... Obie Trice

Places To Go .......... 50 Cent

Rap Game .......... D-12

8 Miles And Running (feat. Freeway) .......... Jay-z

Spit shine .......... Xzibit

Time of My Life .......... Macy Gray

You Wanna Be Me .......... Nas

Wanksta .......... 50 Cent

Wasting My Time .......... Boomkat

R.A.K.I.M. .......... Rakim

That's My Nigga Fo' Real .......... Young Zee

Battle .......... Gang Starr

Rabbit Run .......... Eminem

Typed by: Noitacguht@aol.com, OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

* only the first single is being published before the release date

[Intro]
Look.. if you had.. one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted.. in one moment
Would you capture it.. or just let it slip? Yo..

[Verse 1]
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
to drops bombs, but he keeps on forgetting
what he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth but the words won't come out
He's chokin, how? Everybody's jokin now
The clock's run out, time's up, over - BLAOW!
Snap back to reality, OHH - there goes gravity
OHH - there goes Rabbit, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't
Give up that easy nope, he won't have it
He knows, his whole back's to these ropes
It don't matter, he's dope
He knows that, but he's broke
He's so sad that he knows
when he goes back to this mobile home, that's when it's
back to the lab again, yo, this whole rap shit
He better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him

[Chorus]
You better - lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
You better - lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
You better..

[Verse 2]
Soul's escaping, through this hole that is gaping
This world is mine for the taking
Make me king, as we move toward a, new world order
A normal life is boring; but superstardom's
close to post-mortem, it only grows harder
Homie grows hotter, he blows it's all over
These hoes is all on him, coast to coast shows
He's known as the Globetrotter
Lonely roads, God only knows
He's grown farther from home, he's no father
He goes home and barely knows his own daughter
But hold your nose cause here goes the cold water
These hoes don't want him no mo', he's cold product
They moved on to the next schmoe who flows
He nose-dove and sold nada, and so the soap opera
is told, it unfolds, I suppose it's old partner
But the beat goes on da-da-dum da-dum da-dah

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this motherfuckin roof off like two dogs caged
I was playin in the beginning, the mood all changed
I've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhymin and stepped right in the next cypher
Best believe somebody's payin the pied piper
All the pain inside amplified by the
fact that I can't get by with my nine to
five and I can't provide the right type of
life for my family, cause man, these God damn
food stamps don't buy diapers, and there's no movie
There's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life
And these times are so hard, and it's gettin even harder
Tryin to feed and water my seed plus, teeter-totter
Caught up between bein a father and a primadonna
Baby momma drama screamin on her too much for me to wanna
stay in one spot, another day of monotony
has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail I've got
to formulate a plot, or end up in jail or shot
Success is my only motherfuckin option, failure's not
Mom I love you but this trailer's got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's Lot
So here I go it's my shot, feet fail me not
This may be the only opportunity that I got

[Chorus]

[Outro]
You can do anything you set your mind to, man

Typed by: EastCoastSlim365@aol.com *

* send corrections to the typist

[Obie Trice]
You don't see me in the hood, it's cause I'm doing this man

Niggas, I'm still grinding (yeah), I still hearing those sirens
I'm still getting chased by those lights
Only the light's lime, and my mic's on
And my time is none, because I'm writing more
I don't hear to meet a soul in this business
I'm here to eat, speak, until these ho's feel this
I ain't gonna let you derail me, man
I got Young Kobe homey, you gotta let go of Obie
'Cause Obie be back, (going nowhere, man) we got them craps going on
And that rap going on, soon as a nigga touch down, back from town
It's forever, put that on the cheddar, man
But in the meantime, it's Jimmy Iovine time
Chase cheese, rhyme 'til my voice give out
This is it my niggas, this what we boast about
Now I'm here, so shut your motherfucking mouth, and show me love, bitch

[Chorus]
I just wanna love, for the rest of my life (I don't love you, bitch)
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you in the night
(Right we wanna love alcohol, we wanna love guns, we wanna love money
we don't love no bitches, though)
I just wanna love, for the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you in the night

[Eminem]
There's a certain mystique when I speak, that you notice
'Cause it's sort of unique 'cause you know it's me
My poetry's deep, and I'm stillmatic, the way I flow to this beat
You can't sit still, it's like trying to smoke crack and go to sleep
I'm strapped, it's known any minute I could snap
I'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped
I bully these rappers so bad lyrically
It ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry, it ain't even money
You can't pay me enough for you to play me
It's cockamamey you just ain't zany enough to rock with Shady
My noodle is cock-a-doodle, my clock's coo-coo
I got screws loose, yea the whole kitten caboodle, I'm just brutal
It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it
There's no more humor in it, you know
I'm rolling with a swollen bowling ball in my bag
You need a fag and tear a near hole in my ass, you better love me, bitch

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
And all the bitches say
My buzz is crazy in the hood, they holla my name
If it ain't about the flow, it's 'bout the stones and the chain
If I was you, I'd love me too, I roll like a boss
Nine eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauce
I ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shit
Let me find out he fucking 'round with Bow Wow bitch
Niggas eating popcorn right, rewinding the tape
Now shorty mama in precinct, hollering rape
I'm convinced, man, something really wrong with these ho's
I thought Lil' Kim was hot, 'til she start fucking with her nose
I used to listen to Lauryn Hill, and tap my feet
Then the bitch put out a CD and didn't have no beats
That boy D'Angelo, he determined not to fail
That nigga went butt-ass, for his record to sell
My back shots 'll help Ashanti hit them high notes
And Big Ben taught Charli B'More to deep throat (yea)

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
I love the burners, the money, the bunnies, I just wanna hold you, ha ha
I just wanna love you, yea

Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Eminem]
Sometimes I just feel like, quittin I still might
Why do I put up this fight, why do I still write
Sometimes it's hard enough just dealin with real life
Sometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics
And show these people what my level of skill's like
But I'm still white, sometimes I just hate life
Somethin ain't right, hit the brake lights
Case of the stage fright, drawin a blank like
Da-duh-duh-da-da, it ain't my fault
Great then I falls, my insides crawl
and I clam up {*wham*} I just slam shut
I just can't do it, my whole manhood's
just been stripped, I have just been vicked
So I must then get, off the bus then split
Man fuck this shit; yo, I'm goin the fuck home
World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]
I'm a man, I'ma make a new plan
Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
Time to really just take matters into my own hands
Once I'm over these tracks man I'ma never look back
(8 Mile Road) And I'm gone, I know right where I'm goin
Sorry momma I'm grown, I must travel alone
And go follow the footsteps I'm makin my own
Only way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road

[Eminem]
I'm walkin these train tracks, tryin to regain back
the spirit I had 'fore I go back to the same crap
To the same plant, and the same pants
Tryin to chase rap, gotta move ASAP
And get a new plan, momma's got a new man
Poor little baby sister, she don't understand
Sits in front of the TV, buries her nose in the pad
And just colors until the crayon gets dull in her hand
While she colors her big brother and mother and dad
Ain't no tellin what really goes on in her little head
Wish I could be the daddy that neither one of us had
But I keep runnin from somethin I never wanted so bad!
Sometimes I get upset, cause I ain't blew up yet
It's like I grew up, but I ain't grow me two nuts yet
Don't gotta rep my step, don't got enough pep
The pressure's too much man, I'm just tryin to do what's best
And I try, sit alone and I cry
Yo I won't tell no lie, not a moment goes by
That I don't pray to the sky, please I'm beggin you God
Please don't let me be bitchin holdin no regular job
Yo I hope you can hear me homey wherever you are
Yo I'm tellin you dawg I'm bailin this trailer tomorrow
Tell my mother I love her, kiss baby sister goodbye
Say whenever you need me baby, I'm never too far
But yo I gotta get out there, the only way I know
And I'ma be back for you, the second that I blow
On everything I own, I'll make it on my own
Off to work I go, back to this 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]

[Eminem]
You gotta live it to feel it, you didn't you wouldn't get it
Or see what the big deal is, why it was and it still is
To be walkin this borderline of Detroit city limits
It's different, it's a certain significance, a certificate
of authenticity, you'd never even see
But it's everything to me, it's my credibility
You never seen heard smelled or met a real MC
who's incredible upon the same pedestal as me
But yet I'm still unsigned, havin a rough time
Sit on the porch with all my friends and kick dumb rhymes
Go to work and serve MC's in the lunchline
But when it comes crunch time, where do my punchlines go
Who must I show, to bust my flow
Where must I go, who must I know
Or am I just another crab in the bucket
Cause I ain't havin no luck with this little Rabbit so fuck it
Maybe I need a new outlet, I'm startin to doubt shit
I'm feelin a little skeptical who I hang out with
I look like a bum, yo my clothes ain't about shit
if the Salvation Army tryin to salvage an outfit
And it's cold, tryin to travel this road
Plus I feel like I'm on stuck in this battlin mode
My defenses are so up, but one thing I don't want
is pity from no one, the city is no fun
There is no sun, and it's so dark
Sometimes I feel like I'm just bein pulled apart
from each one of my limbs, by each one of my friends
It's enough to make me just wanna jump out of my skin
Sometimes I feel like a robot, sometimes I just know not
what I'm doin I just blow, my head is a stove top
I just explode, the kettle gets so hot
Sometimes my mouth just overloads the ass that I don't got
But I've learned, it's time for me to U-turn
Yo it only takes one time for me to get burned
Ain't no fallin no next time I meet a new girl
I can no longer play stupid or be immature
I got every ingredient, all I need is the courage
Like I already got the beat, all I need is the words
Got the urge, suddenly it's a surge
Suddenly a new burst of energy is occured
Time to show these free world leaders the three and a third
I am no longer scared now, I'm free as a bird
Then I turn and cross over the median curb
Hit the verbs and all you see is a blur from 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]

Typed by: bulldawg666@hotmail.com *

* send corrections to the typist

Get the fuck up
Ayo, when I step up in the club everybody hit the fuckin' floor
Lucky motherfuckers make it to the door
Cuz when I spit on mic's I spit raw
Which cause confusion from the bar to the dance floor
I keep the club owner vexed
Cuz he gotta pay me when I spit
Plus replace a lot of shit
Niggas get to wildin'
When my words echoes the room like
(get your hand out my pockets)
You sock shit while my topics rockin'
I'm banned from clubs cuz of my toxic tonsils
Loud speakin' like a fuckin sports announcer
I spit, the block hot 'til you rush the bouncer
Or rush the motherfucker in your way who's bouncin'
You know O. Trice get the gats pronouncin'

[Chorus]
Get live motherfucker when I speak motherfucker
Out your seat motherfucker, I'ma reach motherfuckers
Shady Records 'til I sleep, motherfucker
Obie Trice, nuttin' but street, muthatfucka
Tear this bitch up until you bleed, motherfucker
I wouldn't give a fuck who you be, motherfucker
Punk, pussy, bitch or G, motherfucker
Adrenaline rush before you leave, motherfucker

When I speak I blow out your tweeters
A dog
Show out with speakers
Roll out with heaters
I'm just a animal eatin' the game
Jump a monkey
Fuck yeah, Obie's the name
I roll solo
Never been a ho, though
Keep gats vocal
When cats act loco
Where you at when I'm movin' the crowd
You get trampled, mashed on Detroit style
Up out your seats
Pump out the E's
Up the beats, the crowd "Obie, please"
Where my niggas at, smokn' them trees
Off the cognac finger fuckin' a skeez
That's how it is when you party with me
You don't like it?
You L7 like a square be

[Chorus]

Yo, and since I came
I've rearranged the place with blaze
Stage dive with Colt Seavers (?) DNA
I'm so addicted to gettin' niggas lifted
Drunk off the liquid
O.Trice, the misfit
Dousin' the crowd with piss and bile
We underground, motherfucker fix your frown
I be the boy with the whiskey toy
Offa whiskey
You never been to skeet before
So, throw up your hands and
Peep out your man's when
I come through
Next quarter Trice intervene use
And trust, I'm attackin' it
I cook up the hot shit like Ainsley Harriet
That's why I'm so miraculous and Obie gets you niggas pumped up
I'll see you next coliseum, chump

[Speaking]
That's right, it's your Obie Trice fucked up
Off weed... E's and whiskey

[Chorus]

Typed by: david_shaye@hotmail.com

[Intro]
Yeah.
Shady....
Aftermath.....
G-UNIT!!

[Chorus]
I got places to go, got people to see
The penitentiary ain't the place for me
I'm warning you do not tempt me
I'll run up and squeeze it, put a hole in ya, (hole in ya) {*repeat 2X*}

[Verse 1]
You mistakin' me for somebody that you should be testin'
You should be stressin' I'm fiendin' to fuckin' teach you a lesson
Rap 101's in session, Em laced the track that I'm blessin
Smith and wesson's the weapon in case you was guessin', ... (?)
It's kept in my Benz, hot beginning to end
Watch the 22s spin, My hoes they perfect ten
I got shot up but I got up and I'm back at it again
Motherfuckers that thought I wouldn't win pretend to be friends
At first you fail, try, try, try, try again
I'm the best don't you get it, forget it, when I spit it its crazy
You love it, admit it, you like that I live it, its shady
Aftermath in your ass bitch!
If it's not a classic, when it's done we trash it
Flow I got it mastered
Stunt and get yo' ass kicked, bastard
When measures get drastic
Crocks made out of plastic
Cock it, aim it, blast it!
Run nigga, now stash it!

[Chorus]
I got places to go, got people to see
The penitentiary ain't the place for me
I'm warning you do not tempt me
I'll run up and squeeze it, put a hole in ya (hole in ya) {*repeat 2X*}

If there's a genie in a bottle of that Dom Perignon
Imma drink til I get to that bitch
Em and Dre gonna introduce me to the burbs, they gonna listen to my words
In the hood they feel my shit - Break it down!

[Verse 2]
Picture a perfect picture
Picture me in a pimp hat
Picture me starting shit
Picture me busting my gat
Picture police mad dey ain't got a picture of that
Picture me being broke
Picture me smoking a sack
Picture me coming up
Picture me rich from rap
Picture me blowing up
Now picture me going back
To my momma basement to live, shit
Picture that!
Where I'm from it's a fact, you gotta watch yo' back
You wear a vest without a gat, you's a target jack
Hustle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack
Sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, holla back!
50 Cent, too much Henny, man I'm bent, I'm outta here!

[Chorus]
I got places to go, got people to see
The penitentiary ain't the place for me
I'm warning you do not tempt me
I'll run up and squeeze it, put a hole in ya, hole in ya {*repeat 2X*}

[Outro]
Ha ha, man I aint' going to jail, not even to visit a nigga
You wanna holla at me, you write me
Matta fact, you gotta send it to Sunset Blvd up in the Mondreal
Riding around in one of Dre's Ferrari's nigga
Oh matter fact, I might be in Detroit, riding down 8 Mile Road
You know, in one of Em's joints and shit, ya heard
I got places to go man, ya know
Shady Aftermath, we fittin' start printin' money, ha ha ha
Putting our faces on these motherfuckin' bills, shit, ha ha ha ha
Ain't shit you can do about it...

Typed by: Noitacguht@aol.com

[Bizarre]
The rap game, hip hop 101
The hardest nine to five you'll ever have
You can't learn this shit in no history book
You ready to rap motherfucker?
You ready to sell your soul? hahaha
The rap game will fuck you up

[Swifty McVay]
I'ma disrupted nigga, you made me crazy
You shoulda slayed me as a baby
Behavin' shadier than Wes Craven
And you ain't even gotta pay me
I take pleasure of layin' a nigga down daily
You face me, punk it's over, you'll faint fast
I've never fucked up to where I can't whoop ya ass
You'll neck'll get snapped with bare hands, fuck music
Is he rappin'? It's cool but fools, just don't confuse it
What happens: these dudes get rude then I lose it
I'm scandalous, I blow ya two niggas off the atlas
With a gat that's bigger than Godzilla's back nigga
You are not realer, in fact you're feel the effects
Of a crack dealer, y'all presidents since he smacked
And got a mack 10 with it, so I ain't gotta rap
But I'm thankful for that, don't mistakin' me black
Cuz you'll be stankin' in the back of a fuckin' Cadillac

[Eminem]
I'ma get snuffed, cuz I ain't said enough to pipe down
I pipe down, when the [White House] just wiped out
When I see that little [Cheney] dike get sniped out
Lights out, bitch adios, goodnight {*gunshot*} (AHH!)
Now put that in ya little pipe and bite down
Think for a minute cuz the hype just died down
That I won't go up in the Oval Office right now
And flip whatever ain't tied down upside down
I'm all for America, fuck the government
Tell that C. Delores Tucker slut to suck a dick
Motherfuck ducked, what the fuck? son of a bitch
Take away my gun, I'm gonna tuck some other shit
Can't tell me shit about the tricks of this trade
Switchblade, with a little switch to switch blades
And switch from a six to a sixteen inch blade
Shit's like a samurai sword or sensai
Shit just don't change to this day
I'm this way, still tell that utsl-ay itchb-ay
Ucks-ay my ikcd-ay, 'scuse my igp-ay atinl-ay
But uckf-ay you igp-ay

[Chorus: 50 Cent {*sung*}]
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin' you, no it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game

[Kon Artist]
I wouldn't wanna be drinkin', drowned in my own inequity
But fucked that I'ma rap 'til y'all all get sick of me
And clutch my nuts sack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, fuck the dogs you sic on me
I'm sayin' you motherfuckers don't know us, quit playin'
If I'm broke, then I'm breakin' up in the place where you layin'
You know, same shit every nigga done in his life
I look at this, why speak on when I want when I write
So why should I ever fear another man
If he bleed like I bleed, take a piss and he stand?
OK, you win, you can say we can't rap
But no Source never made me not buy an album when they say it was whack

[Kuniva]
I walk in that party and just start bussin' {*gunshots and screaming*}
Right after I hear the last verse of "Self Destruction"
This liquor makes me wanna blast the chrome
To let you know +The Time+ without Morris Day and Jerome (nigga)
I'm low down and shifty, quickly call Swifty
To do a drive-by on the tenth speed with 50
Ya feelin' lucky? Squeeze
I catch you outside of Chuckie Cheese
With ya seed, you be an unlucky G
My lifestyle is unstable, a partyin' addict
They said no fightin' in the club so I brought me a 'matic
Coughin' the static, I jump niggas, call me a rabbit
Poppin' the tablet and guns that saw you in half

[Chorus: 50 Cent {*sung*}]
Believe me, we run this rap shit, fo sheezy
Make makin' millions look easy
Everywhere you turn you see me, you hear me
Believe me, before you see my pistol in 3-D
No time to call a peace treaty
Dial 911 cuz you need the- police to help you believe me

[Proof]
I snatch the chalk from the sidewalk and piss on the curb
This is absurd, these street niggas twistin' my words
We finally could "Say Goodbye to Hollywood"
Cuz Proof and Shyne man shit nothin' in common
The nastiest band with gas in each hand
We never bow down to be a flash in the pan
No remorse, fuck ya stature dog
Nothin' to do with hands when I clap at y'all
Put your jaw on the ground with the four and the pound
Then I'm gone outta town 'fore the law come around
So we can battle with raps, we can battle with gats
Matter of fact, we can battle for plaques (This rap game)

[Bizarre]
I'm too fuckin' retarded
I don't give a fuck about my dick
That's why I'm datin' Lorraina Bobbet
My crew had an argument, who was the largest
Now they all is dead and I roll as a solo artist
Plus I made all the beats and wrote all the raps
Well I really didn't, but I did accordin' to this contract
I was thrown in the snow with nowhere to go
Freezin' 20 below, forced to join Bel Biv Devoe
My little girl, she shouldn't listen to these lyrics
That's why I glued her headphones to her ear to make sure she hear it
If rap don't work, I'm startin' a group with Garth Brooks
Hahahaha, 50 sing the hook

[Chorus: 50 Cent {*sung*}]
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin' you, know it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game

Typed by: Noitacguht@aol.com *

* send corrections to the typist

[Jay-Z]
Yeah, Renegades is back
Em the B the sick
It's Young, Freeway, 8 Miles, let's go

8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs
But I can rewind the calendar back, back when it was now or nothin'
People said I would amount to nothin', that I had talent for nothin'
Said I would succumb to violence or be silenced by your gunmen
I could just hear the folks now, "He got what he had coming"
Now that my eighth album's comin' everybody's smilin'
Wantin' something, claimin' that they done something for him
Got their Jay-Z pom poms and their whole uniform
Claimin' they been runnin' and tellin' everybody like Martin Lawerence
'Bout how hot my rap performance was before I was who I was
Claimin' that they threw it up before I threw it up
You what? Where was you before I blew this up?
I didn't see you in the courtroom when everybody was suin' us
I didn't see you in all black when everybody was suitin' up
Back on the block, gettin' it in, there wasn't no you with us

[Chorus: Jay-Z]
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
[Freeway]
6 miles and running, got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs
[Jay-Z]
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
[Freeway]
6 miles and running, got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

[Freeway]
6 miles and running in the Pontiac
Six thousand eighty six, trans might shift while the engine run
Anyone tell ya rider give me one more chance
Hear them smokers screamin' "One more gram"
So I'ma bring 'em one
Homie, son, and my pop, stick close to my MOMMA
Keep toasters for DRAMA, mix a lot with my son
My son growin' and he learnin' a lot
That's when them toasters will the burners will pop, brain on ya own
Well a nigga, tell 'em niggas
That's like the biblical scripture
Look back, turn assault like the sin is in
Most of ya heartless and self-centered like "Me Shaq and me Shaq"
Set up ya brother cuz you jealous nigga
The heat back, like you never left
I ever rep, cops watch every step
Six miles and running dodgin' every trap
The rap gingerbread man, cheer us up
You precious breath, State P the second attack

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z]
Back when nobody would found he had talent, nobody would sign me
Nobody believed in me, nobody but mommy blindly
But how can she deny me? Me being the youngest runt
To come up outta her tummy, she got nothin' but love for me
When niggas would want me, the industry shunned me
That's why I'm takin' all the industry's money
Revenge is sweet honey, we run this
Young is the illsest, Free is the future
Bean's and Bleek is right now, we can see our 8 miles nigga

[Chorus]

Typed by: chanedogg@hotmail.com

[Xzibit]
I'ma clean this whole shit out like colonics
With words put together better than Sony Electronics
King of the jungle, humbly stay honest
Eat with the lions, swim with piranhas
Gasoline the seem, strike the match
Inferno, I'm too thoro nigga so stand back
I spit shine, get mine and rip rhyme
and make my career take an in climb
I'm strict with knives, straight with razors
Good with grenades and great with gauges
Been around the world in a million stages
Watch niggas bitch up and go through changes
I had guns before thugs was in fashion
I mashed out before niggas knew mashin
I knew terror before the plane started crashin
I got punch lines and niggas ain't laughin

[Chorus: Xzibit]
I'm gon be here after the smoke die down
The sound of your style, I won't lie down
Fight the good fight, don't need no help
Keep your hands up, defend yo self
Move like I move and live life long
Can't move up if ya heart not strong
Get'cha own shit cuz this shits mine
Every time I spit I shine

[Xzibit]
Cocksucka I preach what I practise, back shit up
Wrap this rap shit up, still actin up
Get found in a trunk of an Acura
Y'all suck like jail in Dracula
X turn up the heat, increase the hatred
Straight stone faced don't fuck wit gay shit
So I guess that means I can't fuck wit you now
Two down, let off, vacate to new town
It feel like Bishop and Juice now
Got a flame thrower that'll burn big holes through your goose now
Rough sound, same strong background
Been on black, the big boys layin chips down
My whole train of thought is
to body any mothafuckea wit problems and not get caught
I was blessed with life but I curse ta death
I'ma spit ta my very last breath - Fuck y'all!

[Chorus]

[Xzibit]
Let me give this a three second look, I hit a million dollar target
You ain't came up yet, well nigga let me show ya
Come across dope like planes and boats
Like balloons filled with coke down a Mexican's throat
You ever seen a man get smoked, they shit on they self
Their body shake for a second then it gets dissected
For evidence of the weapon and the people involved
Let one nigga talk, everybody gettin caught fa sho'
I say that to say this (what?)
If you can't handle the time then ride the bench
Might as well touch ya tail and jump the fence
Castrate ya self, expose the bitch
X go head up, but fuck, never ran from it
I got a gauge with buck shot that you can't stomach
You ain't a killa, you a album filla
You ain't a soldier, you a rap promoter, game over!

[Chorus]

Verse 1

When there come and left for dead
I've been out of my head
and now i wanna be bigger
bein' here with you
it's not so hard to be
I can see my dreams
I know im gonna be better
my friends always say

Bridge

my friends always say
that everything will be okay
but it don't always work out that way
so here i am again
believing in, cause i remember when
baby

Chorus

I had the time of my life
everything is right with you
after all that i've been through
I aint try'n' to lose
this time of my life, with you
baby

Verse 2

People say I'm out of line
So much on my mind
Like i wanna be bigger
sometimes it dont rhyme
but when you're here with me
I have poetry
I know im gonna be better
and my friends always say

[Bridge]
[Chorus]

One day they will see
the giant baby
finally see me smile
hear me laughing, out loud
my voice will be heard
its no longer absurd
and i hope you hear
cause baby, baby

i haaaaddd...
I had the time of my life
everything is right with you
after all that i've been through
I aint try'n' to lose
gotta make my move and groove
everything i can
I had the time of my life
time of my life, with you
baby, take my hand
because im going to go on to
this time of my life, with you
baby
I had the time of my life
time of my life, with you

[Thanks to nanny_candy@hotmail.com for lyrics]
[Thanks to heather_2188@hotmail.com for corrections]

Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

Uhh, oooooooooooooh baby, baby
Keep it thug, and keep yo' heat, na nah nah nah nah

[Nas]
Now slowly, thinkin of all the things that oppose me
I think of kings who died and rappers out to dethrone me
For they crown they head is cut off, bodies is laid
Dead in the street, it's so fuckin pitiful
First they love you, could be the bitch that even live with you (hoe)
Mad at your riches, now she switched, turned miserable
Cause she wanna dress like Bonnie, Robin and Crystal do
But Crystal's single, Bonnie's broke and her niggaz too (ha)
I can do bad by myself; went from rags to wealth
From Jags to Bentleys to, plenty ass bitches
Can't keep they hands to theyself no more
I'm like, Hugh Hefner, you lesser, you just a

[Chorus]
Wanna be me, you can't you faggot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So you - wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, you wanna be son, I'm the one and only
But you - wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But you - wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin this mic profession, turn your direction

[Nas]
You can't be me, not in your wildest fantasy
It's childish; should I have to resort to violence?
Pay me a half a million, I'll consult your album
And show you how to stay off my dick
That's the thing I hate the most, can't even call you a man
When you gotta call out my name to get you some fans
No talent, you need direction; you a pussy with a yeast infection
You unlucky, I'm your fuckin C-section
Plus I'm the last real nigga alive
Toast glass, Ill Will, the label get high
Realize, how many classics I gave you
Perhaps if you think back you'll realize that I made you

[Chorus]

[Nas]
You can't be me, I'm tryin to walk a straight line
Why they tryin to take mine? I'm past +8 Miles+ of every state line
Eating, alligators and, hummingbird hearts
At the player's ball, Brianni suits, y'all birds watch
As real millionaire, shit'll take place
Evil as Hitler's hate-race people
This is God son, and I've come from the God under pure peace
To represent the streets, you'll see that my plan
is not to destroy your man
But to bring more to mankind and teach
Every MC reach for your pens and papers
Lesson one be creative; what you made of junior?
Cause soon you'll be a grown man with the mic in your hand
And understand, to battle Nas not in your plan
I'm the last real nigga alive, understand that
And you my offspring, the boss sting
A bulletproof Porsche things, hard for you to understand that
Nas the king, where my bricks, where my band at?
Play me a gangster's theme, while you entertain me
If I ain't cryin laughin, to the lions, throw your ass in
What the fuck was you niggaz thinkin?
Guns'll clutch if I get a inklin that you comin for the kingpin
But I laugh at you cowards, ha ha ha
Take me out, try try try, but you

[Chorus]

You can't be me

Typed by: Lil_Patzi@hotmail.com

* unlisted bonus track on the third album

[Intro: 50 Cent]
It's 50 a.k.a Ferrari F-50
Break it down
I got a lot of living to do before I die
And I ain't got tyme to waste
Let's make it

[50 Cent]
You said you a gansta but you neva pop nuttin'
You said you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'
You ain't a friend of mine, (huh)
You ain't no kin of mine, (nah)
What makes you think that I'ma run up on you with tha nine
We do this all tha tyme, right now we on tha grind
So hurry up and copy and go selling nicks and dimes
Shorty she so fyne, I gotta make her mine
A ass like dat gotta be one of a kind
I crush 'em everytime, punch 'em with every nine
I'm fuckin with they mind
I make 'em press rewind
They know they can't shine if I'm around the rhyme
Been on parole since 94 cuz I commit the crime
I send you my line, I did it three ta nine
If D's ran up in my crib, you know who droppin dimes

[Chorus 2X: 50 Cent]
You said you a gangsta
But you neva pop nuttin
You said you a wanksta
And you need to stop frontin'
You go to the dealership
But you neva cop nuttin'
You been hustlin a long tyme
And you ain't got nuttin

[Verse 2]
Damn Homie, in highskew you was tha man, homie
What tha fuck happened to you?
I got the sickest vendetta, when it come to the chedda
And if you play wit my paper, you gotta meet my berretta
Now shorty think I'ma sweat her, sippin on amoretta
I'm livin once than deada, I know I can do betta
She look good but I know she after my chedda
She tryna get in my pockets, homie and I ain't gonna let her
Be easy, stop tha bullshit, you get your whole crew wet
We in tha club doin' the same ol' two step
Gorilla unit cuz they say we bugged out
Cuz we don't go nowhere without toast we thugged out

[Chorus 2X]

[Verse 3]
Me I'm no monsta, me I'm no gangsta
Me I'm no hitman, me I'm jus me, me
Me I'm no wanksta, me I'm no acta
But it's me you see on your TV
Cuz I hustle baby, this rap shit is so easy
I'm gettin' what you get for a brick to talk greasy
By any means, partner, I got to eat on these streets
If you play me close, for sure I'm gonna pop my heat
Niggas sayin they gon merk 50 how?
We ridin 'round with guns the size of Lil Bow Wow
What you know about AK's and AR 15's?
Equipped with night vision, shell catchers and inf beams, huh

[Chorus 2X]

I don't think you understand
That what you're doing is not so cool
You think it's funny to mess with my mind
Don't you

You know I like you so you just tease me
You give me just enough to hang on enough
When you're just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time

Do you hear me when I say
So let me ask you something
Do you think I'm pretty or don't you
Do you wanna get with me or not and nowwww

Or are you just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time
And what would you've got to say
Well things have got to change
Say this just isn't right
I don't wanna have to fight
And I think I'd better go
Cause this ain't working out any more
and I'm sorry, sorry, sorry

Understand
That what you did
Was just not so cool
Baby, you're just not that cool

Typed by: BombSkeezer@aol.com

Ra! (*repeat 7X*)

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
R: Rugged and rough that's how I do it
A: Allah who I praise to the fullest
K: Keep it moving, I: Stand alone
M: It's my crown, my world, my throne

[Verse 1]
Aiyyo when Rakim Allah attack, it's a wrap y'all relax
The arm in that, you show me where the party's at
Seminars and tracks, hors, comas, and cardiacs
Broads and cats screaming "Oh my God he's back"
Just imagine, I hit the lab and get it crackin'
A thousand styles in one verse, rhythms will switch patterns
Chicks get stabbed in the back, till they get spasms
Known to spit a magnum, or split an atom
Who woulda known that Jesus would come back to the ghetto
On that level, and that thorough, like a black hero
And pack metal, so rap rebels, will back pedal
The pharaoh of five boroughs, and take over the rap world
Gettin' bizarre, hardcore, this is for y'all
The crib or the park, play it when you get in the car
Chill at the bar, sip somethin' or split a cigar
Get with your dogs, don't be alarmed, this kid is the bomb

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Uh, yeah yo, I used to paint this flow, on ancient scrolls
And learn ta, make this dough, where gangstas roll
Think like the late great Capone when the bank is closed
It's cats that claim they bold, but they ain't this cold
I'm from New York City even pretty chicks act up
Niggas get clapped up, you stack up, they stick that up
Put the strap up, you think my name was "Kid back up"
Big niggas (spittin' noise) pick that up, or lift that up
Raised by gangstas and gamblers, hustlers, con artists
And convicts, killers and dons
Drug dealers, playas and pimps, smooth talkers
Stick up kids, thugs, real niggas and gods
Haunted by every soul that lay dead in the turf
Close by every spirit, that never made it to birth
Since the Moon separated from Earth
That's why they say I'm the greatest that ever orchestrated a verse
It's the

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Ay yo, we toast to that, it's the cat that broke backs
To a soul slap, a smoke a track, how dope is that
Poet for rap, wrote backs that most slack,
That know rap before they turned coke to crack
To my dogs hearin' sirens on and firearms
Outcome die in wars or behind iron bars
The boulevard, tire frauds when I evolve
Try and rob, my dialogue, I am God
Chicks moan just to get next to my throne
And sniff my cologne and get Ra alone
Sex spot's at home, I'm testosterone
Caress spots, stress drops, bedrock's the bone
Hit the floor, it's hot for 2003
Hit's galore, who rock a style as wild as me
Rest assure, when I rock dance crowds and scream
Bis-Mi-Allah A-Rahman A-Rahim it's the

[Chorus] - 6X

Typed by: EastCoastSlim365@aol.com *

* send corrections to the typist

[Young Zee]
Uh, Zee
I got waiting haze, my customers ho's, sleep with me
We have small beef, I still sell them O's for three fifty
They know in big beef, I pop a hundred times
Be like roadkill, I live nigga's brains on one and nines
And my down bitches, they be ready to kill
I be like chill, they be like..

[Chorus]
That's my nigga for real (Yea, uh huh, I'm from the Bricks, we be like)
That's my nigga for real (Yea, Young Zee, all my niggas from the hood, they be like)
That's my nigga for real (Yea, B-Boy, you my nigga, talk to 'em)

[B-Boy]
Yo, I don't give a fuck if we don't sell a record
We still gon' get this money in the Bricks
Spill it, Zee

[Young Zee]
Yea, uh, yea, yea
I'm like, Santa Claus, I deliver niggas grams a raw
Straight from Panama, fiends eat it up like canavaugh
And my dimes disappear like magic wands
I sell 'em, 'til the crack of dawn and destroy every track I'm on
Plus I have a clam packed in the back of vans
More royal than the Taliban murk you for a half a gram
(What?) I get B-Boy to drop your truck in the river
Fuck some dough, we be like..

[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]

[Young Zee]
Yea, jeah, Uh-huh-ha, yea
Scarecrow (what?), I'm trying to walk before I crawl
I want it all ever since I came out of my mama's walls
I'm trying to make so much dough when I write a song
I can write 'em all why y'all clique on the corner selling final calls
Yea, niggas mad at us, gladiators like Maximas, we fabulous
While you fall off like Canibus's managers
My man Dee U, keep the nina peelin'
(Point 'em out, and watch me)

[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]

[Young Zee]
Zee need Buddha, E-user, beef pre Lugers
Spittin' from our PT cruisers
My tape don't drop, I still got dough to make
Got little niggas on roller skates holding my coke and weight
Blow paper, ho chaser, dough raiser, Joe Fraizer
Sixteen cellys and four pagers
Go hype up your squad that they might fuck with ours
I just, light up cigars, go by bikes, trucks, and cars
I got (?) In Atlanta deep, 'round the street, ten grand a week
I give 'em one word to put your man to sleep
And I love my Jersey live bitches
They'll leave a nigga face, with thirty five stitches
They'll help my tie cinder blocks and push your kids
So deep in the ocean, they'll see where octopuses live
Jeah, this label deal is for Raz, Pace, and Chill
I know mad chicks, but still

[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]

[Young Zee]
What, Bricks (Bricks, Bricks)

Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much money you got?"*}
{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much money you got?"*}

[Guru]
I used to guzzle 40's, and own a beat up Caddy
Since the hood still love me, I'll turn the heat up daddy
I went from mackin fly honies on the train
to straight relaxin on the beach, countin money gettin brain
Soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot
You buy a iced out watch because it cost a lot
Then you in the club, stylin with dough
Profilin with hoes that we boned, a while ago
You rookies haven't done enough laps around the track
You had one hot single, but then your album sounds wack
Son you bore me with your war stories
You ain't even do that shit, so that's just more stories
How you expect us to take you seriously?
The look in my eye punk, has got you scared of me
I'm blastin your sons, I'm snatchin your funds
You catch a royal ass-whoopin, you've been askin for one

{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How much money you got?"

[Guru]
Bitch you don't even know, the half about me
I bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me
I'm just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
I might advise ya, or I might pulverize ya
I can visit any city, get respect in the street
While you alone in your room, shook to death of the streets
I'll take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach
I ain't talkin romance but you'll get swept off your feet
I keeps a ghetto chick, that loves to blast and she peddle shit
Groupies fake moves, I get her to settle shit
You can't compare to the status right here
Legendary worldwide, we can battle right here
Listen junior, I'ma tear back your wig
This ain't TV but I'll show you what a "Fear Factor" is
Stop grillin me, and all that frontin is killin me
You leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings G

{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How much money you got?"
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around"*}
"You know the drill"
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"You know the drill"

Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Eminem]
Some days I just wanna up and call it quits
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks
Every time I go to get up I just fall in piss
My life's like one great big ball of shit
If I could just, put it all into all I spit
Instead of always tryin to swallow it
Instead of starin at this wall and shit
While I sit writer's block, sick of all this shit
Can't call it, shit
All I know is I'm about to hit the wall
if I have to see another one of mom's alcholic fits
This is it, last straw, that's all, that's it
I ain't dealin with another fuckin politic
I'm like a skillet bubblin until it filters up
I'm about to kill it, I can feel it buildin up
Blow this buildin up, I've been sealed enough
My cup, runneth over, I done filled it up
The pen explodes and busts, ink spills my guts
You think, all I do is stand here and feel my nuts?
Well I'ma show you what, you gon' feel my rush
You don't feel it, then it must be too real to touch
Peal the dutch, I'm about to tear shit up
Goosebumps yea, I'ma make your hair sit up
Yea sit up, I'ma tell you who I be
I'ma make you hate me, cause you ain't me
You wait, it ain't too late to finally see
what you closed-minded fucks were too blind to see
Whoever finds me is gonna get a finder's fee
out this world, ain't no one out there mind as me
You need piece of mind? Here's a piece of mine
All I need's a line
But sometimes I don't always find the words to rhyme
to express how I'm really feelin at that time
Yea sometimes sometimes sometimes
It's just sometimes, it's always me
How dark can these hallways be?
The clock strikes midnight, one-two, then half past three
This half-assed rhyme with this half-assed piece of paper
{*rip*} I'm desperate at my desk
If I can just get the rest of the shit off my chest again
Stuck in this slum, can't think of nothin
Fuck I'm stumped, but wait, here comes somethin
{*crumples paper*} Nope, it's not good enough, scribble it out
New pad, crinkle it up, and throw the shit out
I'm fizzlin now, thought I figured it out
Ball's in my court, but I'm scared to dribble it out
I'm afraid, but why am I afraid?
Why am I a slave to this trade?
Signed out of spit to the grave
Real enough to rill you up
Want me to flip it I can rip it any style you want
I'm a switch hitter bitch, Jimmy Smits ain't a quitter
I'ma sit until I get enough in me to finally hit a
fuckin boilin point, put some oil in your joints
Flip the coin bitch, come get destroyed
An MC's worst dream, I make 'em tense
They hate me, see me and shake like a chainlink fence
By the looks of 'em, you would swear their jaws was comin
By the screams of 'em, you would swear I'm sawin someone
By the way they're runnin, you would swear the law was comin
It's now or never and tonight is all or nothin
Momma Jimmy keeps leavin on us, he said he'd be back
He pinky promised, I don't think he's honest
I'll be back baby, I just gotta beat this clock
Fuck this clock, I'ma make 'em eat this watch
Don't believe me watch, I'ma win this race
And I'ma come back and rub my shit in your face, bitch
I found my nitch, you gon' hear my voice
'Til you sick of it, you ain't gonna have a choice
If I gotta scream 'til I have half a lung
If I had half a chance I'd grab it - Rabbit, run