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Un bon gros remix bien lourd du titre « Don't Touch Me » de Bus-a-Bus avec The Game, Nas, Lil’ Wayne, Reek Da Villian, Spliff Starr & Big Daddy Kane !!!!
5 years ago
Quelle est votre instru préférée ? 1. Dead Wrong - The Notorious B.I.G 2. The Next Episode - Dr.Dre 3. Where The Hood At - DMX 4. One Blood - The Game 5. Gravel Pit - The Wu-Tang Clan
5 years ago
Check 1, 2 Aiight I was born with the voice of a riot, a storm Lightening the function, the form Far from the norm, I won't follow like cattle I'm more like the catalyst, calm in the mix of battle Who let the cowboy on the saddle? He don't know a missile from a gavel Para terror troopin' flippin' loops of death upon innocent flesh But i'm back in the cipher my foes and friends with a verse and a pen against a line I won't tow or defend instead I curse at murderous men in suits of professionals who act like animals This man child, ruthless and wild Who's gonna chain this beast back on the leash? This Texas fuhrer, for sure a compassionless con who serve a lethal needle to the poor, the cure for crime is murder? Well I was born with the voice of a riot, a storm Lightening the function, the form Far from the norm, I won't follow like cattle I'm more like the catalyst, calm in the mix of battle Who let the cowboy on the saddle? He don't know a missile from a gavel I read the news today oh boy a snap shot of a midnight ploy Vexed and powerless devoured my hours I'm motionless with no rest 'Cause a scream now holds the sky under another high-tech driveby A lie is a lie this God is an eagle or a condor for war nothing more Islam peace, Islam stare into my eye brother please off our knees To beef now we feed their disease interlocked our hands across seas What is a flag is a rag but a shroud out loud outside my window is a faceless crowd 'Cause a cowering child just took her last breath one snare in the march of death here it comes the sound of terror from above he flex his Texas twisted tongue the poor lined up to kill in desert slums for oil that burn beneath the desert sun now we spit flame to flip this game all the targets are taking aim all targets are taking aim we're the targets are taking aim A écouter très très fort...
5 years ago
ton hardcore se fait découper comme un cainri en Irak :)
5 years ago
[Ice Cube] I'm a Nigga Wit an Attitude thanks to y'all And I don't give a fuck I keep it gangsta y'all I'ma ride for my side in the C.P.T. God bless the memory of Eazy-E If it wadn't for me where the fuck you'd be? Rappin like the Treacherous Three, fuckin cowards I'd have seen Dre rockin parties for hours And I'd have seen Ren fuckin bitches from Howard And I'd have seen Snoop give away Eddie Bauer's So fuck Jerry Heller and the white superpowers [MC Ren] This the shit niggaz kill for They hear the villain niggaz spittin' with them nigga flows Fuck you hoes, fuck you bitch ass niggaz too Got something for you broke These niggaz wearin' skirts like the pope Who them niggaz that you love to get (us) Who them niggaz that you fuckin' wit' (us) Love the girl that weed and shit (what) The saga continues, with the worlds most dangerous group Four deep in the coup (Im a spill it) [Dr Dre] A pencil, a pen, or a glock Im the original, subliminal, subterranium Titianium, criminal minded, swift D-R-E with that fuck a bitch shit (fuck a biatch) A couple o' notes and get you hog-tied in rope Dope like tons of coke, cutthroat You don't want the pistols to whistle Candy paint impala I make hoes pop collars [Snoop Dogg] God damn hoes, here we go again Fuckin with Ren, playin' to win (he got the) coke in hand, (I got the) juice and gin Same shit you was fuckin wit way back then We keep it crackin' from the actin to the jackin G'ed up C'ed up motherfucker blaze the weed up We all on deck fool so put your heat up I stay on deck so me don't get wet [Ice Cube] Look my nigga, we can scatter like buckshots Let's get together, make a record, why the fuck not? [MC Ren] Why the fuck not? [Dr Dre] Why the fuck not? [Snoop Dogg] Why the fuck not? [Ice Cube] Cause I'm tight as the night I had to wipe activator off the mic, in 1985 ...
5 years ago
Straight off the black gold, nuts in my hand, trustin no man Got my glock cocked, runnin this thing, ya understand We be steamin, blazin, nines pumped in caves and Hollygrove 17th, the hood where I was raised in Niggaz bustin heads and, runnin duckin Feds and rocks under they tongues and, ki's under they beds and do it for the real niggaz, twenty-four seven hustlers EHHH, until we shove a barrel down ya pipe suckers Ain't no love for them busta, no pimp for no coward No respect for no stunt, and no money without power We keepin niggaz hotter, EWWWW nasty and sour Pile up in the Eddie Bauer and BLAKA at every hour Some niggaz like that powder, fold it up what they drain Some like that weed or that dope and some shoot it up in they veins From the home of the game, jackin and crackin brains Broadcastin live from Tha Block it's Lil' Wayne Tha Block is Hot, Tha Block is Hot ha, ha-ha Tha Block is Hot, Tha Block is Hot ha, ha-ha Tha Block is Hot, Tha Block is Hot ha... See where I'm from we keep our guns out Dodgin cops and burnin blocks, cause we be thugged out It's time to floss, two big bodies on Broad South and they got quarter staffs and birds that run the house It's all good in the hood hustlin like illegal Soon as you get it, hot SKIRT, like for them people Break up the block and hit the cut by the corner sto' End up in Miss Taylor backyard, be quiet, she on the porch This everyday, at the spot where niggaz murder on top, boy It's the spot where they got Fire Girls and Hot, Boys We don't know what be goin cause we so blunted from trees and we'll be round ya all day til it's "400 Degreez" And you see where niggaz go, nobody be on the pulpit They got a nigga that own the sto', he flippin out off that broad Betta stay in yo' car, and make sure, your door is locked Cause this ain't nuttin proper, cause Tha Block, is jusssst Hot See watch your step on my section, gotta walk like, talk like Where they shot out all the street lights So you can't see what nobody be like ...
5 years ago
Yo, c'mon! Even if I died a thousand deaths When I resurrect I'll still be Meth The jams will still be def I'm here, me and this mic-phone, we here And ain't tryin' to hear nothin' cuz we had it up to here (What?) Lyrics have no dress code (yeah) From KRS to Depeche Mode Hit them so cool you cats cold Had to jump off, it's about to jump off My niggaz speak with they hands or the gun talk Yo RZA, we got the Clan in the front and police at the door Every exit is laced with C-4 about to blow Life trial I'm passed out MC's is like bitches in thongs - they assed out But me, the M-E-T-H- the O-D Just too real, I can't be touched and can't feel The monotony in rap, take a picture of my nut sac Carbon copy that and send your crew a fax Motherfucker New and improved Wu-Tang style Turn it up now, y'all done fucked up now Spit flames (Five mics) Peep game (On site) Bring the pain (All night) Off the chain (Damn right) [Scratching by RZA] "It's the Method Man for short Mister Meth" "Tical-lion" "Hmmm" Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c'mon! Even if I died a thousand deaths When I resurrect, through my first born, my name lives on My words is like a third degree to young emcees Buzzworthy on your MTV, the Killa Bees John Jacob, straight up, break up, schemes and plots Ace up my sleeve, bake up pies in pots So this is what it's come to (Huh?) Lickin' shots at them kids that used to punk you (Huh?) Repetitious rap shit, don't get no air play ya mouth whip And niggaz can't smoke wit' dry lips so chapped Bite my shit, I'm like Kojack to get my flow back In fo' flat, I track you down like a low jack Spy verse spy, eye for an eye can I penalize the uncivilized Make 'em civilized You know right from wrong, so know I'm the bomb Who don't beef for beats, see the tracks on my arm Motherfucker
5 years ago
One, two, three and I come with the wicked style and you know that I'm from the wicked crew, act like you knew cos I got everybody jumpin to the voodoo Pick it, wicked rhymes, picket signs While me and the mob gotta truck full of 9's] Play ya and I'll slay ya I got thug-made dough by the hey-a Ready to BUCK BUCK BUCK and it's a must to DUCK DUCK DUCK before I bust Lookin for the one that did it but like En Vogue, no you're never gonna get it Cos I'm the one with the fat mad skills and I won't choke like the Buffalo Bills Sittin at the pad just chillin cos Larry Parker just got two million, oh what a feelin So shake that nigga and pass me the pill and I'll slam dunk ya like Shaquille O'Neal Like it, dig it, maybe and watch that Kick it cos I get wicked Won't say nuttin, just listen Got me a plan to break Tyson outta prison Come my way and get served Still got a duece that'll bunny hop the curb Nappy head, nappy chest, nappy chin Never seen with a happy grin Show the fat foul cos I'm down Take a look around and all you see is big black boots steppin Use my steel toe as a weapon Kick ya and flip ya, now they want to label this nigga, tape with the sticker Kickin out girls that's nicety Yo, I gotta body count like Ice-T From here to New York I get skins and ain't talkin bout pork Swine, pig, dick Listen to the flow of a so-called negro who didn't know I was funky as Wilson Pickett Dig it cos I get wicked People wanna know how come I gotta gat and I'm lookin out the window like Malcolm Ready to bring that noise Kinda trigger happy like the Geto Boys April 29th was power to the people and we might just see a sequel cos police got equal pay A horse is a pig that don't fly straight Doin Darryl Gates but is Willie Williams down with the pilgrims Just a super slave We'll have to break his ass up like Super Dave I'm wicked enough to board this Cos now it's on to the fullest Gorilla straight from the mist But I don't miss when it comes to this ...
5 years ago
This is for the straight thugged-out, the low ride pro’s Triple o.g.’s with the hot six fo’s Go fast ballers, bangin six gears Three time felons with the tattooed tears For all the homies out there that cook it up good Distributin so up they project a neighborhood Whether it’s peruvian or ghetto d Won’t you bust down a kid and sell a ounce for me I’m from the ghetto so the hoodrats gettin propers Real criminals, robbers and the pit bulls squabblers Puttin down thousands till there ain’t nothin left Cause real street riders, let em roll to the death I like fly shit so I scramble for the pay Rather hustle homeboy, then gangbang anyday Was down with the truce in nine-deuce though I looted It’s the y2k and I’m still khacki-suited, what you thought? I’m like them hot boys, got cash money and hot toys Plus them automatic things to make the pop noise For haters that resent me, they jealous evidently Cause I flow through the city in a drop top bentley But hustlas like me, just stay to the grind Pay you no mind and keep the safety off my nine I ain’t worried about you busters, we ain’t scared to kill I was beastin before rap, I’m a street nia for real So check my resume and tell me what it say I’m the same mack from the block known for pushing yay I claim the turf and bang the hood from a b.g. Now I’m eight figures up, and when you see me it’s tv Mack ain’t getting caught up in charged with murder one When you got loose you don’t do it, you simply get it done Now who wanna test and try push around mack Get this rap shit twisted and get your dome pushed back, huh? ? Back to them o.g. gangsta for life critic piss See I’m insane bangin inglewood city kids If rap fail today I’m back to cuttin chunks Pushin work through the hood from down south to the bronx Nan they trip if they want to and get cheap thrills Only mc with skills but not an mc with kills ...
5 years ago
Artistes: N.W.A (Ice Cube, Dr.Dre & MC Ren) Titre: Hello Album: War and Peace Vol.2 II & N.W.A The Best Of Année: 2000 Bonne qualité de son et d'images, aucune censure sur les lyrics !
5 years ago
It's the Method Man for short Mister Meth... Tical-Lion... Hmmmm...
5 years ago
Un lieutenant de police new-yorkais, marié et père de famille, ne résiste pas à ses penchants pour tous les vices que sa fonction et son insigne semblent lui autoriser. Les tentations quotidiennes deviennent de plus en plus nombreuses, l'horreur et le mal y sont banalisés, surtout lorsqu'il s'agit de petite délinquance. Sous l'emprise de l'alcool et de la drogue, il s'enfonce sans cesse davantage dans la spirale des jeux d'argent, notamment à travers divers paris sur des équipes de base-ball. Ruiné, perdu, déchu et menacé de mort par ses créanciers, il cherche désormais quelque rédemption en voulant venger le viol d'une jeune religieuse...
5 years ago
Extrait du Live de Nas à New-York N.Y. State of Mind Life's A Bitch Street Dreams If I Ruled The World Nas Is Like *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*--*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*--*-*-*-
5 years ago
David (Dustin Hoffman) est un mathématicien américain réservé qui retourne habiter avec sa femme dans l'arrière pays anglais pour fuir la violence chaotique des États-Unis. Mais lorsque David engage une équipe locale pour réparer sa grange, celle-ci commence à harceler le couple. Passif, David ne fait rien pour stopper la violence de ces hommes. Cela continue et s'intensifie, jusqu'à la nuit où ils le poussent à bout... Ce film a été interdit en Grande-Bretagne. Il est devenu un jalon important dans la longue interrogation du cinéma sur la violence, au même titre que Orange Mécanique de Stanley Kubrick.
5 years ago
Les cinq premières minutes du live de Nas à New-York City. ************************************************************************************************ The Cross Got Yourself A Gun (The Sopranos Theme) -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
5 years ago
[Jadakiss] Yo ain't nothin but trouble God When I kick in the door with D-Block, Bravehearts and the Double R Don't make me let the machine off This is methadone music that you can lean off "Made You Look," the remix with me up on it I copped your shit, now I break weed up on it And everything is real I see Like my niggaz that been home but they only got a jail ID I helped the game, it ain't help me I'm top five dead or alive and that's just off one LP And, I still buzz, they feel cuz Cause they know the flow's Ill just like Will was I'm just tryin to make sure that my sons wealthy Out of shape but I make sure that my guns healthy I'm a ape, you can't stand 'Kiss Comin through the hood in a Aston Vanguish the color of dandruff They said we jumped him, I just let the gun snuff him Copped P then turboed soon as they uncuff him This goes out to all of your mans Why put you in the verse when I can put in a coroner van D-Block [Chorus 2X: Nas] THEY SHOOTIN! Ah made you look You a slave to a page in my rhyme book Gettin big money, playboy your time's up Where them gangsters, where them dimes at? [Ludacris] Yuh, woo! It's time to go, Luda let's go! I'm from the school of hard knocks, sneak peeks and low blows Where X's mark spots and kitchens mark O's Where love is gon' getcha and hate is gon' snitch ya And fingers squeeze triggers like boa constrictors It's the, Mr. Luda, Jada and Nas And our bullets give you a deep tissue massage So hear a song and dance while I make these ends You never stood half a chance like Siamese Twins AHHH - THEY SHOOTIN, look in the barrel Then he made the front page of the Miami Herald or Chi. Tribune, nozzles with silent doom We in that A-Town Journal-list, filed with goons You should print my information, quote my rhyme And keep me in between these New York and L.A. Times I was the victim of society, it's 'Cris the menace With mo' shit out on the streets than evicted tenants WOOOOOOOO!
5 years ago
Uh, uh, uh, now let's get it all in perspective For all y'all enjoyment, a song y'all can step wit' Y'all appointed me to bring rap justice But I ain't five-O, y'all know it's Nas yo Grey goose and a whole lotta hydro Only describe us as soldier survivors Stay laced in the best, well dressed with finesse In a white tee lookin for wifie Thug girl who fly and talks so nicely Put her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze We can drive thru the city no doubt, but don't say my car's topless Say the titties is out, newness here's the anthem Put your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot wit' Push the pool stick in your new crib, same hand that you hoop with Swing around like you stu-pid, king'a the town, yeah I been that You know I click-clack where you and yor men's at Do the Smurf, do the Wop, Baseball Bat Rooftop like we bringing '88 back They shootin'! -- Aw made you look You a slave to a page in my rhyme book Gettin' Big/"big" money, playboy your time's up Where them gangstas? Where them dimes at? This ain't rappin, this is Street-Hop Now get up off your ass like your seat's hot My live niggaz lit up the reefer Trunk'a the car we got the streetsweeper Don't start none, won't be none No reason for your mans to panic You don't wanna see no ambulances Knock a pimp's drink down in his pimp cup That's the way you get Timberland'd up Let the music diffuse all the tension Ball or convention, free admission Hustlers, dealers and killers'ca move swift Girls get close, you'ca feel where the tool's kept All my just-comin' homies, parolees Get money, leave the beef alone slowly Get out my face, you people so phoney Pull out my waist, the eagle fo-forty I see niggaz runnin', yo my mood is real rude I lay you out, show you what steel do Mobsters don't box, my pump shot obliges Every invitation to fight you punk hazas Like Pun said, "You ain't even en mi clasa" Maybach Benz, back seat, tv plasma ...
5 years ago