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Swizz Beatz

Bust Ya Gunz – Swizz Beatz

Whoo, yeah, Swizz
It’s showtime? yeah
Y’all know who it is
I’ma get it poppin’ like I’m used to

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, we make ’em cum

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, I make ’em all say

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, let’s go

Me in the scene, I’m makin’ that cream
Them haters always say, what the hell does that mean?
I’m comin’ through your block, got somethin’ mean
The Ferrari pink, it blings

Yep, I got suede in my dash
I got your chick ready to kiss my ass
I go to the club, man, it’s no cash
That black card make them chicks move fast

Can you hear me now? Can you see me now?
I throw on my jeans tucked and it’s out now
T.I. made them suckers bring it out now
The Ruff Ryders start it, now just shout it

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, we make ’em cum

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, I make ’em all say

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, let’s go

Man, it’s engine, engine, number 9
You talkin’ crazy, you lose your mind
And if that chucker wanna throw that stack
Well, pick it up, hey, pick it up, you don’t know me

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But Kanye know my name, Timbo, know my name
Pharrell, know my name, Scotty, know my name
Came in the game at 16 and changed the game up
Came in the game at 16 and changed the game up

Kicks, snares, change the beat game
Cali like Big said and Big did
I hope nobody got offended what I said
You wanna act crazy, I aim for your head

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, we make ’em cum

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, I make ’em all say

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, let’s go

I got a special guest for y’all
He go by the name of Drag Dash, get ’em man

Guess who’s back in your buildin’ ya big pimpin
Your big disc got Drag Dash on, now come on, look two childrens
It’s Drag Dash, bitch, Mr. Backdraft, bitch
Bust a slug like I blub, blap-blap, bitch

Bitches know niggaz love the way my flow switch
Scratch my trigger finger, make a nigga itch
I ain’t gotta tell you how I spit propane
I’m at the gun range ‘cause I ain’t got no aim

Get at you rappers, spit the stank in your lane
My shit been clappin’ since Don did ‘The Soul Train’
I’m back like when bakin’ soda do cocaine
Drag to the Dash, I’m in the hood like lo mein

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, we make ’em cum

READ  Good Times - Swizz Beatz

Do y’all niggaz bust your guns?
Hell yeah, we bust our guns
Do y’all fuck ’em ’til they cum?
Damn right, I make ’em all say

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, let’s go

The Drag album comin’ soon too
We got Needlz on the beat, man
Them drums is too cold cut-able man, yeah
Bakka-bakka, shots flowin’ here
Swizz, get ’em, whattup?

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Swizz Beatz

Where the Cash At – Swizz Beatz

Everybody wanna know about Swizz huh?
Well you gotta google this.

Where the Cash At? [x4]

I hear y’all talking I see y’all frontin
I hear y’all talking I see y’all frontin

Where the Cash At? [x4]

He said he got a porsche got a benz got a rover
He shinin in the club but his jacob watch over

Seen my watch and my thing a little colder
It ain’t what you got it’s the huebot[? ]
Leanin on the wall cause you know I’m boss status
Check my apparatus, my chick is the baddest
Yeah all the drinks for free
Everybody in the club get the liquor on me.

Where the cash at? where the stash at?
Ou talking all crazy then they blast at

He only really frontin cause he have to
She ain’t look at you she lookin past you, cause
Where the Cash At? [x7]

I hear y’all talking I see y’all frontin
I hear y’all talking I see y’all frontin

Where the Cash At?
Where the Cash At?
Where the Cash At?
Where the Cash At?

Them haters all talkin and the broads all talking
But it don’t mean nothing to me
I mean I’m sleepin on the millions and my children all straight
So it don’t mean nothing to me

I am just chillin in the club chain swangin, pants hangin
I told you bastards the money ain’t a thing
Now everybody wanna talk
The drums I’m a hustla and I run new york
And plus them haters wanna be me
The closest they ever get to lamborghini is linguini
Get the f*** out my face
Shouldn’t y’all worry bout that SEAN BELL CASE!?

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Where the Cash At? [x7]

I hear y’all talking I see y’all frontin
I hear y’all talking I see y’all frontin

Where the Cash At? [x4]

Que pasa, no english, man
My casa big like new england, man
That Chrome Bugatti is pretty man
Dirty money so I call it stinkin man

Where the cash at, where the stash at
He talkin all crazy so they blast that

You know he only frontin cause he have to
And I ain’t drivin close I’m drivin past you

Where the Cash At? [x7]

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Swizz Beatz

Swizz N 4 Beatz – Swizz Beatz

[Swizz Beatz]
Ruff Ryders, 1-2, 1-2
G.E.T.T.O. Stories, Swizz Beatz
Makin’ it happen
Listen to what the fuck I got to say

I’m from the hood
I love the hood
I rep the hood, lived in the hood
Started on the grind, started with a 9
Motherfucker, I had to earn mine
Nigga, a lot of niggas hatin’, a lot of niggas watchin’
A lot of niggas plottin’, a lot of hearts stoppin’
Uh, believe that, I’m bangin’ with the beats
I bang with the streets, I’m bangin’ with the heat
S – to the double – I – to the double – Z
Niggas look at me – want no trouble B
I’m just mindin’ my business
Makin’ money, stackin’ chips, just mindin’ my business
You can catch me in the 3-60 or, Odena, blowin’ down the Pasadena
The rebel appeal, go ‘head, appeal, that bitch will squeal
That’s when that hoe’s dyin’, cause if I’m in court it’s guaranteed I’m lyin’
Fuckers, I had to get my business right
Had to get my money right, had to get my label right
You can hate all you want, I’m here forever
Swizz Beatz part whatever, I’m here forever, bitch

[Shyne]
Swizz, Po
Step out gangsta nigga
Lay down

What you know ’bout rollin’ out?
Big Tec, big vest, hollow tips all up in that kid neck
Po live it up, yellow stones lit it up
Long John Silver’s tell, it’s the kid, nigga what?
Some of y’all rap niggas is girls
Hold my dick, gappin’ and flappin’
Fuckin’ cartoons
These niggas guns don’t go off until they say, “Lights, camera, action!”
Yo Swizz, tell them niggas, “Eat a dick”
Gun up in your face bitch, that way we don’t miss

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Unload the shit, then reload the shit
And straight to the airport and unload some bricks
No lie, you niggas see me comin’ down the streets
You’d think I was flyin’, 12 cylinders
Brooklyn is mine nigga, move over
Yeah I’m talkin’ to you – fuckin’ dick blower

[Sung with female]
For all of y’all keepin’ y’all in health
Just to see you wild and enjoy yourself
Cause it’s cool when you fuckin’ with a nigga like me
Cool when you ridin’ with a nigga like me

[Female Singing]
To all my Marla Mable bitches just (shine)
To all my niggas keep it gully just (shine)
To all the ghettos in America (shine)
I’ma keep it gangsta till I die nigga (shine)

[Styles: The LOX]
Ya really ain’t beefin’
Ya wanna talk to God? Then my 9 is the phone line to reach Him
I thought about it hard and long
And came up with the answer to myself that God is wrong
Cause if y’all that the best you can do
To fuck with Paniro, then after these bars, I’m gone
I’m harder than a year in the box
My head is to pop without a Ox on a murderous block
And they never {EDITED} for years, what?
Cause if it 44 cells, I feel like its hell
Been 22 niggas goin’ off of the tear
Time Magazine, P should get the “Boss of the Year”
Tinted Magazine, you could get the “Corpse of the Year”
Bout to kidnap the rappers, knock out they eyes
So nobody gotta watch when I floss of the year
And if you heard P spittin’, then it’s all for the ears, what?
Motherfucka

READ  The General (Remix) - Swizz Beatz
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Swizz Beatz

Top Down (Feat. Nas) – Swizz Beatz

Lirik lagu: Top Down (Feat. Nas)

[Swizz Beatz]
Swizzy!
Wherever you are (Shine)
Whoever you are (Shine)
Wherever you are (Shine)
Whoever you are (Shine)
Wherever you are (Shine)
Whoever you are (Shine)
Hey, Hey, I told ya

[Chorus]
Ridin’ with my top down, and my jewelry on
Hey, I’m just getting my hood on
I’m just, I’m just, doing my thing
I’m just, I’m just, (pimp) doing my thing
Hey (yup) hey (yup) hey (yup) hey
I said I’m ridin with my top down, and my jewelry on
Hey, I’m just getting my hood on

[Verse 1: Nas]
It’s the late night greasy spoon patron
Poolhall making
Big bets, midsection got the 8 in
Dior Christian pimpin’
Got that penal system diction
Riffing, you don’t want it you snitchin’
Spit a few at a traitor with that new AR
Try to kill me I’m the leader, that’s coup d’etat
Streetsweepers in that Coupé all black
Bitches want my chipped tooth back
Steel mac, so my kufi never gets smacked
Squeeze the fifth with a grip as I dip
From the paparazzi
Still playing numbers (you can’t stop me)
Still wearing bundles, and spark weed
If I ever say “Queens get ’emâ€, you know they got me
Success, scandal, bone deep, personal beef
So lead by example, or get trampled
Since Hip Hop Is Dead, this is the N
Congratulations in order ’cause we did it again

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Nas]
The chain’s offensive
Brain on airplanes, Gucci frames are vintage
The two Tec Don in Yukon’s and Benzes
Chicks who suck other chicks tits like infants

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The Apprentice but not Trump
I’m the n-gga with glocks and pumps
That you don’t see much
Sucker free from chumps
Homes with cobblestones in front of ’em
He’s got guns in cummerbunds, so understand you under son
Don’t make me have you running from a hundred guns
Don’t make me grab your only son
I’m coming from
A place Tanqueray and weed’s the only escape
From phonies who hate
When you rolling with papes
That’s why the God party with juicy models
They mob me, Denali, Charlie Luciano – hardly
Have to tell y’all, I kill y’all
For spitting songs that involve me n-gga
Original verbal assassin, have to carve me a n-gga

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Nas]
I got the armour tucked with the no drama luck
Tatted up, everywhere, my neck, arms and stuff
Like I roll my body around on wet comic books
The Dalai Lama prodded up, lighting chronic up
Ugh, of course I’m at it again
You know N, I throw caution to the wind
I talk about the life I’m in
But I swear to God I may never write again
But if I hit em hard, they say the World must kneel
Baddest girls gon lick my Tim’ boot heel
Sayin’ Nas running out of time
This is my last chance
Gotta shoots to kill, this is my last dance
I say hell nah, don dadda
Goons act fly, fly swat ya
Rapping ducks, modern day dracula’s
What you coming out your caskets for
This game been dead but guess who came back for more

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[Chorus]

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