st.nick Posted August 16, 2001 Share Posted August 16, 2001 Artist: Nice & Smooth Album: Ain't a Damn Thing Changed Song: Sometimes I Rhyme Slow Typed by: OHHLA.com (Greg Nice) Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick I'm sweeter and thicker than a chico stick Here's an ice cream cone honey take a lick I go to Bay Plaza and catch a flick Wore my Timberland boots so I can stomp ticks Scandalous get a wiff of this mist Just like the Yar Boys now I'm blissed I feel good per say good state of mind Drive a red Sterling and the seats recline I love it when a lady treats me kind Go to Tavern on the Green have a glass of wine He say, she say I heard it through the grapevine No static, got an automatic Too much of anything makes you an addict Teasin, skeezin, all so pleasin Don't ask why I got my own reasons Smooth B Greg Nice Slick Nick click Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick... (chorus) (Smooth B) Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick I was on 125 and Saint Nick Waiting on a cab, standing in the rain Under my heart three clouds of pain She got the best of me What was her destiny? Maybe I should lick her with my nine millime...ter My mind is in a blur Cause you could never pay me to think this would occur Me and this girl Jane Doe was living together We were inseparable, noone could sever At least that's what I thought But later I fought with her substance And almost ended up in Supreme Court When I was on the road doing shows getting biz She was in my penz getting stiffy with her friends And even when she crashed my whip I didn't flip My man Slick Nick said Smooth you're starting to slip Time went on I started noticing weight loss Then I had to ask her was she riding the white horse At first she said no, then she said yo Smooth I'm sorry But I keep having visions of snow I need doe And I said woah little hottie I'm not DeLorean, Gambino or Gotti I don't deal coke, and furthermore you're making me broke I'll put you in a rehab and I won't tell your folks And what do you know In 18 months she came home and I let her back in And now she's sniffing again... (chorus) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Trend Posted August 16, 2001 Share Posted August 16, 2001 dope song Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seeking Posted August 16, 2001 Share Posted August 16, 2001 that beat was nasty... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Seek One Posted August 16, 2001 Share Posted August 16, 2001 good song...you got any other recomendations (SP?) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Remy Martin Posted August 16, 2001 Share Posted August 16, 2001 snoop doggy dog..doggy style.. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest beardo Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 for seek... Artist: The D.O.C. Album: No One Can Do It Better Song: The Formula High energy flowin' with the wisdom Sense of a rich man, knowledge and the rhythm This is what I'm using to come up with a style So I'll interact altogether better with the crowd Nervous for a second then the record starts spinnin' And I fall into the state of mind of what I'd just created Pump it like the Dr. D into the R.E. suckers ready to leap Up on the tip when we made it Creative so I'll never be regarded as a regular More than just a little bit better than my competitor You should never underestimate the fashion I hold for the stage whether I'm coolin' or thrashin'' Clockin' the concoction created by me When read you read E = the D.O. to the C. Knowledge and the talent that my mother had born to her Equals an artist that wont' be worn, what is that Dre? It's the formula It's like a message that only I could understand But those who want to comprehend will again Be in the midst of the brother Unlike another in any way 'Cause Dre don't play, say what the other say Originality is a must whenever I bust A funky composition, it's crush and I trust that you Know it when you hear a funky record with potential Me gettin' hype 'cause Dre rockin' the instrumental Nothing like what you've heard before and more, never less See I don't Fess, I mean I'm like fresh if not the freshest When I'm expressin' my thoughts on Vinyl, you can't help but listen up and get caught on Hooked because I cook when I pick up a pen And begin, in the end it's dope, that's 'cause I want to win Knowledge and the talent that my mother had born to her Equals the DOC, what is it Dre? Yo, that's the formula Keepin' it dope as long as I can like imagine Makin' each record that I do better than the last one Take a little time, choose the topic and drop it Release it, the science of makin' dope beats with Rhythmic American poetry Shipped it to stations, now many people know of me I'm the D. into the O. and the O. into the C. and the C. into the period Suckers are fearing' this When heard, the dope style calculated by the great wait And take just a second to get caught up in my record new but not a kid to be worn If something' gettin' torn up then I'm doin' the Tearin', not bein' torn Shapin up to be one for the top vocalist lyricist And when you hear of this You shouldn't choke on this Knowledge and the talent makes it valid For me to get it patented Dre, tellin' what I'm rappin' The formula In effect and I'm smooth, that's why I'm on the incline Suckers frontin' for nothin' 'cause I'm goin' to get mine It's in the cards and I thank I might have read this so dont' lie and try to front like someone said this Most who know thoughts served by the DOC see That it's a mission impossible, tryin' to rock me For an arena who'd ask me to perform for her G.O. and easily I flow and ya know usin' the formula IM LOOKING FOR THIS ALBUM.. if anyone has it id trade.. sketches... flicks.. stickers.. whatever for it. one of my all time favorite albums.. DONT SLEEP!! [This message has been edited by beardo (edited 08-16-2001).] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Seek One Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 thanks beardo that song was fresh Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
omone Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 anyone know what song was sampled for sometimes i rhyme slow? i think i heard it once, maybe im wrong Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JimmyHofa Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 tracy chapman, dont know the name of the song tho Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest beardo Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 Artist: Camp Lo Album: Uptown Saturday Night Song: Luchini (This is It) Typed by: twc@dnai.com Intro: This is it (What?!) Luchini pourin' from the sky Lets get rich (What?!) The cheeky vines The sugar dimes Cant quit (What?!) Now pop the cork and steam the vega And get lit (What?! What?! What?!) Verse One: Introducin', phantom of the dark Walk through my heaven with levitation From efficient and these leathers showboatin with Rugars Flash vines, Belafonte vigga Lets get for what it's worth As we confiscate your figgas Cassanova brown levitatin jiggy in da shiggy's In la hotta Car 54 chasin diamond runners Headin ice bound, where every chilla dime can get Your Harlem buck strut freezin world hice Hollywood Madame Butterfly let me in your house of pleasure From the knuckle swat shadowboxin catchin black-eye blues I play the deef (What?!) Sensations at the Monte Barbie screamin (Cheeba!) For fillin pleasures at my castles (Blow the smoke out!) The boss of Vegas substitutes when the Dutch is gone The Lo don't stop give me shouts Its the season sauters Souflers for swervin no corners We magnets to moolah Livin wit Charlie's Angels hornets No smilin were slidin That gets you caught up in the octa Or deaded for movin Its just like that as we proceed Saturday night special better take it lightly Ja-Jiyah A happy time quest to the coast of Key Largo wire-ah The chain gang keep your ears out for our years Sippin' fountain root house of bamboo paradise Chorus: repeat 2X This is it (What?!) Luchini pourin' from the sky Lets get rich (What?!) The cheeky vines The sugar dimes Cant quit (What?!) Now pop the cork and steam the vega And get lit (What?!) [1st time] This is it (What?!) [2nd time] (What?! What?!) Verse Two: For these feral herds of seas of black cheese that I can't missa Silky Days, satin nights taken flights down <???> We sensation spanish flyin with the lady Scarface Bottoms up sunshine.. Love Potion Number 9 And we headin from the magic city chessin this sweet On your orifachiny in London Relaxation in Bora Bora Got notion to bring it... sing it Love up in my function Stonin... robbin We hiestin merchandise and gunnin Love it... leave it But bless the war chief or his bison Get it... got it The Lo will forever be nicin Yeah; the Sonny Cheeba he be sippin Armaretta The Geechie Gracious he be sippin Armaretta We float the tri-state drink in this satin vines This Coolie High jack pack from the sugar shack Then what we do after we sip the Armaretta We start the Harlem River quiver Dig it sweet daddy Sharpen the crimson blade High sierra seranade Anatomy for seduction be this here Jealousy... Enter the place with grace Jersey Armaretta the burstin of clouds It pours.. everything seems better Or flats with love we move Only in the mist Its Lo its life And we can't get enough of this Chorus: repeat 2X This is it (What?!) Luchini pourin' from the sky Lets get rich (What?!) The cheeky vines; the sugar dimes Cant quit (What?!) Now pop the cork and steam the vega And get lit (What?!) [1st time] This is it (What?!) [2nd time] This is it (What?!) (x2) Outro: Yeah The Sonny Cheeba he be sippin Armaretta The Geechy Gracious he be sippin Armaretta The Joe King he be sippin Armaretta The Chaquita Kid he be sippin Armaretta We got high stakes for mine Kiwa Armaretta And then my man Ill Will sip Armaretta And then my man Cab in the tray sippin that We slide through the Tri-State with the hi-hat And then I float side-to-side in my Coolie High And then I peep the sunset with this Spanish Fly Yeah And then I float down south with the Boogie Flats And then I slide up in-between a ziggy And all of that gibs Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest chicken bone Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 nice and smooth is dope.. redbone booties im out to taaaag dewdewdewdewdewwww dewdewdewdew budadoo budadoo doooooooo!! that one song where they use that parliament funkadelic beat.. i forgot both the songs but they're in my head. soemtimes i rhyme slow is like my 2nd favorite song by them. ------------------ chicken bone! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Retired Hasbeen Posted August 17, 2001 Share Posted August 17, 2001 ...Does anyone have a copy of the TREACHEROUS THREE- New Rap Language? The enitre track? ..or know where I can get a copy?..Not a download, like an actual tape or record,cd,etc.. Thanks.. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MisPantalonesEstaEnfuega Posted August 18, 2001 Share Posted August 18, 2001 Artist: Nas Song: it ain't hard to tell Album: IllmaticIt ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail The mic is contacted, I attract clientele My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper's breath I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps Deep like The Shinin', sparkle like a diamond Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin Cause in my physical, I can express through song Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong I drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell The buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up Not stories by Aesop, place your loot up, parties I shoot up Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L School a fool well, you feel it like braille It ain't hard to tell, I kick a skill like Shaquille holds a pill Vocabulary spills I'm +Ill+ plus +Matic+, I freak beats slam it like Iron Shiek Jam like a tech with correct techniques So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me Scannin while you're plannin ways to sabotage me I leave em froze like her-on in your nose Nas'll rock well, it ain't hard to tell This rhythmatic explosion, is what your frame of mind has chosen I'll leave your brain stimulated, niggaz is frozen Speak with criminal slang, begin like a violin End like Leviathan, it's deep well let me try again Wisdom be leakin out my grapefruit troop I dominate break loops, givin mics men-e-straul cycles Street's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle And groovy but smoother than moves by Villanova You're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stone in Cobra Packin like a rasta in the weed spot Vocals'll squeeze glocks, MC's eavesdrop Though they need not to sneak My poetry's deep, I never fell Nas's raps should be locked in a cell It ain't hard to tell ------------------ Girls suck. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Trend Posted August 18, 2001 Share Posted August 18, 2001 Jeru - One Day Album - Wrath of the Math one day about 6 o'clock im woke up by the sound of my buzzer and a car, or a truck screeching off so i jump up, scratch my nuts but when im like "who's that?" nobody speaks up so i go to the door there's a note it says we have hip hop hostage with guns to his throat do the right thing and we might let him go but if you call the police thats all she wrote you know what the motive is, its all about dough and in case you think we bullshittin, here's the photo i couldnt recognize the clowns cuz they was all hooded down but i peeped Foxy Brown sippin Cristal in the background with fake aligator boots on and smack dab in the middle was hip hop with the Versace suit on. i immediately called Primo i said "hip hop is in trouble meet me at my rest on the double dont even jump in the shower, matter fact scratch my rest meet me at D & D in a half an hour. and bring all your shit with you cuz you know what we got to do, yo Afu" (Afu) "what's up" lets Jetson like Elroy if i recall correctly i last saw hip hop down at Bad Boy. we'll see if Puff knows whats up cuz he's the one getting him drunk and fuckin his mind up. we go to the office, he's nowhere to be found so we snatched up J-Black and beat his punk ass down. "now where's hip hop?" "aiight, aiight" he confess Suge came and took him from Puff last night. he said he'd give him up if a real nigga came to retrieve him, so we went to LA later that evening. when we got there, everything was aiight and we brought hip hop back home that night. one day............... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LUKY Posted August 18, 2001 Share Posted August 18, 2001 camp lo kiks ass Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tEkRoCkS Posted August 18, 2001 Share Posted August 18, 2001 anythng off of NAS ILLMATIC!!!!!!!!!! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kid furie Posted August 18, 2001 Share Posted August 18, 2001 Artist: The Coup Song: Not Yet Free Typed by: *someone who makes alota mistakes* Blacks are too fuckin broke to be republicans (Boots) In this land I can't stand or sit and not get shit thrown up in my face A brotha never gets his props I'm doin bellyflops at the department of waste And everyday I pulls a front so nobody pulls my card I got a mirror in my pocket and I practice lookin hard I'm lookin behind me beside me ahead of me There'll be no feet makin tracks here instead of me But I can't disregard just what the news says to me I'm twenty-one, so I've reached my life expectancy At any minute I could be in some shit that kills my skinny ass From motherfuckers doin the sellout strut or probably Oakland task My relationship with OPD has been like one big diss Long arm of the law, grips my dick so tight it's hard to even piss So I forgot ain't even got a pot to do it in Up at the church they're tellin me it's because I live in sin So I grin, but nevertheless my mind won't dwell I must be trippin cause I thought I was livin in hell Capitalism is like a spider, the web is getting tighter I'm struggling like a fighter, just to bust loose It's like a noose asyphyxiation sets in Just when I think I'm free it seems to me the spider steps in This web is made of money made of greed made of me Of what I have become in a parasite economy (E Roc) In the winter there's a splinter with the smell of the rain And the scent of the street, but all I smell is the pain Of a brotha who's a hustler and he's stuck to the grind Of a sista who's a hooker gotta sell her behind Desperation makes her brotha get a little more bold The circumstance gets deeper when it's damp and it's cold So I spend my time thinking bout the ultimate gank Can I get my Coup together pull a move on the bank? I be the picture perfect hustler for the piece of the pie But my daddy always taught me just to reach for the sky Now my dream and aspirations go from single to hoe As I realize there's a million motherfuckers in the cold No need to be told, cause when you got a million po' people Gettin ganked, by a few that are rich and evil But it's illegal, to wonder how they livin fat One two three everybody get a gat (Boots) Ahhhhhh yeah! Niggaz, thugs, dope dealers and pimps Basketball players, rap stars, and simps That's what little black boys... are made of Sluts, hoes, and press the naps around your beck Broads pop that coochie, bitches stay in check That's what little black girls... are made of But if we're made of that who made us and what can we do to change us The oppressor tries to tame us here's a FOOT for his anus! Well since the days when I was shittin in diapers It was evident the President didn't like us Assassination attempts I'd root for the snipers My teacher told me that I didn't know what right was Well she was wrong cause I knew what a right was And a left and an uppercut, too I had a hunch a sucker punch is what my people got That's why I was constantly red, black, and blue [E] Boots, Boots, Boots, you wanna throw some shots out? Ay man I ain't done with my lyrics yet, that's not cool [E] Ay, but ain't this a freestyle? Naw, this is not yet freestyle cause we not yet free [E] Hey we gonna throw some shots out anyway *guns are cocked* Awright fuckit, who y'all wanna throw some shots out to? [E] Uhh whassup with that uhh Bill Clinton and Al Gore? Aight, they the new masters up in the White House and everything Let's throw some shots out [E] Yeah *blam, blam blam* Awright, what about Bush? He on the way out and everything but I think we need a goodbye for his ass *gun cocked* [E] Uh-huh *blam* [E] See-ya! Awright, what about Ross Perot and the good ol boys? *guns cocked* [E] The who? You know who they are, awright *blam blam, blam* Ay what about Pete Wilson? (Whassup) That Pete Wilson motherfucker [E] Yeah whassup wit him? Awright *blam* [E] Got him! Awright, ay, the L.A.P.D., *guns cocking repeatedly throughout* The O.P.D., The Richmond P.D., Detroit P.D., ay [E] Ay fuck it, fuck it, the whole, the whole motherfuckin P.D. Awright, load up [E] Yeah, here's a loaded club for yo' ass *semi-automatic* Awright, cool -- ay, what about these skinheads? Ay check it out [E] I can't stand dem fools Awright awright, load it up, load it up, awright, cool *semi-automatic* [E] Yeah, got em! Ay, what about these sellout motherfuckers! [E] Who? *gun cocks* You know these sellout motherfuckers -- Ellay DuHarris [E] Who else? *gun cocks* Tom Bradley [E] Who else? *gun cocks* David Dinkins, ay, line em up [E] Yeah be true to the game *blam blam blam blam* Ay, we outta ammo, what we gon do? [E] Let's get the fuck up outta here Aight cool, we out Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest dukeofyork Posted August 18, 2001 Share Posted August 18, 2001 awwwww shit... this is it WHAT... aint nothin compares to some looochini.. say word..he he..... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ferris Bueller Posted August 19, 2001 Share Posted August 19, 2001 Artist: Kool Keith Album: Plastic World 12" Song: Get Off My Elevator --------------------------------------------- Get off my elevator! (Security will escort you out the building) Get off my elevator! (That woman is very nosey) I choose my subjects, personal man, that's what I want to write Critics critique, I compel that lots of rappers weak '97 I blacked out, he's paying all my rent Larger than hip-hop, you watch me like the president No feedback on R&B scams motivate me With stretch marks around your gut plus I know you hate me Guard your feet, lose celulite, I'm a come complete Work off your stomach pounds with super sonic stomach sounds That's word to hoss, animal heads, stupid fly gorilla I get pros vexed, on ghetto clicks I get iller Guard your rab mics, my style shine like zebra stripes Right in your forehead, my word becomes a real missle I be hanging in back doors like Rose's toilet tissue Hydrolic engines blow flies out your left window Your rap is catnip with slob dropping on the pillow Shut your face, shut your mouth like pigeons floying south I'm rolling rampart, the bottom kids where you start Get off my two sacks, light your pipes, load your cracks Get off my elevator! (Security will escort you out the building) Get off my elevator! (That woman is nosey, trying to find out business) Get off my elevator! (Security will escort you out my building) Get off my elevator! (That woman is nosey, trying to find out more business) You're rapping wackey, your whole wardrobe, your colored food stamps Department of agriculture scheming like a vulture I burn your sideburns off on tracks like John Shaft You be counting your pubic hairs trying to do the math Like mascot, you front your ashy face and black beat Studio platic melts panties sweating street heat I'll be there like Vladimir packing in your ear Dr. Smith, Will Robinson make you say "Oh dear" I take your tour bus, treat you like infested puss Lima beans drop down and grease your dirty jeans National thunderstorms, step up and find your power Your records hot melt like yogurt and you smell sour Get my reels, Ampex, a-DAT system flex You got polio knees, lock fell on Soul Train The anser is Anorex, punks I'll flip your brain Like Don Cornelious, I hide behind the scenes Make you lick my hot dogs with ketchup on two beans I censorship real quick and feed your family cabbage Make you thought eat ham hocks, tuna out the garbage Blind your range with tones, your radio sounds strange Eat out your rear bag, snatch ribs out your wild coyote Tell Bob to pay me, the company boss still owe me But Capitol built walls, built fences I come for my check, don't lower your defenses Get off my elevator! (Security will escort you out my building) Get off my elevator! (You are very nosey and un-highclassed) Get off my elevator! (Security will definitely esort you away from my building) Get off my elevator! (You'll be shipped away in a cop car) Elevation, I want elevation beyond elevation yes! Elevation, elevation, past elevation Elevation, elevators elevating elevation Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dosoner Posted August 19, 2001 Share Posted August 19, 2001 Originally posted by omone: anyone know what song was sampled for sometimes i rhyme slow? i think i heard it once, maybe im wrong Tracy Chapman: (Elektra 1988) "Fast Car" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest beardo Posted August 20, 2001 Share Posted August 20, 2001 bump in hopes someone has my DOC tape... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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