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Hiatus

Ill Poetic

Ill Poetic Presents: Mood Muzik's Third

2008

But still shorty wild
Turned on by forty cals
Was young never saw me wild, clutch Robert Horry style
No wonder why I picked up triggers to beef
I

Woah, woah woah woah woah
Yung Orad nigga
One and only, Big Curezza
I may be paranoid I gotta keep a Weapon by the side, leggo
How the perky hit

We All Die One Day

Eminem

Cheers

2003

hard (uh-huh)
Trust in God 'cause you's about to catch a bullet scar (yeah)
I give a fuck where you from, who you be with
Keep this a secret, right by

keep it started
Yeah, yeah, violater the album
Go, go, go!!

[l boogie]
This is for my mob and my thug niggas
Ruff ryder bug niggas, def jam website

get bread they some birds they gonna flock, ho
Win the chip man I feel like Joe Flacco
Big attitude but she only 5'4
Hit my DM as soon as she follow

on hard
I be rippin them tracks
And by the time it hit the shelves
I'll be gettin' it back!
So many niggaz playa hatin'
So I'm totin a gat
Pistol grippin',

They got hit so bad, believe me
They never complained again"

Picture me soundin' like the
World wide mob figure
Whoo-riders this Syke, call me that

Pull up to the club we be on Banshees and CRs
Ask about us who we are
I'm a young king I'm wassup
I ain't asking for no ride I
Made it here all by

hoe or Fat Joe prick
You know I roll with them guards
We take niggas off the streets
And give 'em jobs
And most rappers play hard
Until they take

well
We are some partying mothafuckas"

Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick

Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick

Howdy folks

are you fed up with your CD collection?

unsatisfied with what you got

well here's your chance

Rednex's first album is still available

Wanna be Jigga-ass niggas and do lyrical like Nas
Old bitch-ass nigga with the sloppy flow

Got your mommy, your bitch, give me sloppy Joe
Send a kite

by the CIA or the industry
Know where black hands be on black Glocks
No back stabs or sad plots, we let them rot

1-800-Nas&Hit, don't call us with

Act II: T.I.

T.I.P.

T.I. vs T.I.P. [Clean]

2007

Umm, uh what the fuck, what time is it?
I swear I parked my car, shit

Aye, light hit my face sun brought the heat
Open my eyes, see my car

(oh no)
Hit the oochie-coochie 'til it's slanted, ooh
I'm gon' beat it up, ooh, baby
I'm gon' make your dreams come, baby
Ayy, you the one who

Ventura Highway

America

In Concert

1985

on a falling star
Waitin' for the early train
Sorry boy, but I've been hit by purple rain
Aw, come on Joe, you can always change your name
Thanks a lot son,

manic (oh no)
Hit the oochie-coochie 'til it's slanted, ooh
I'm gon' beat it up, ooh, lady
I'ma make your dreams come, baby
Ayy, you the one who

I'm Still #1

Boogie Down Productions

Mix Tape, Vol. 1

1998

Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style

ridin'[00:32.64]Y'all average like Joe Biden[00:34.30]Leave them on the floor, they cryin'[00:35.97]My brothers go up, we flyin'[00:37.74]They stay by my side,

got shit on your chain I'm used to diamonds (Diamonds)
Black on black like I'm the president feel like Joe Biden (Like Joe Biden)
Swear she's for

[Verse One]
Here it comes fool, I play a game where there's no rules
Homies on the cut call me Joe, cause I'm so cool
Quick to get a ?? with a nigga,

(Wheezy outta here)

Yeah, yeah, I'm in this bitch, yeah, I'm back
Ah, ah, I hit the club on the up, you can come with the racks (uh, come with