chansons et textes

The lord is my shepherd
Let's get this coke measured
And as I walk through the valley of the shadow of gangstas
I fears nothin but God and bein broke
I stack paper and flow to fast cars in the presence of my enemies
Niggas waitin for me to break
Shit, aint nothin foldin but my money
We them niggas wit big guns and big dicks
We afraid of bein broke, so we shed bricks
This thing of ours, will never be devoured
Bad Boys,we move in silence
In the name of power, money, and glory forever and ever
Amen.

[Shyne]
In front of Gucci in the winter,
I seen ya witcha girl Just walkin' uh - in ya chin chilla fur
I was laid up - in the coupe back shade up
Lookin' at cha face, just pure wit no make up
A little bit a mack lip gloss, hair in a bun well done
Lookin' for a ring, I seen none
So I hopped out the coupe In hot pursuit
To stop and introduce Like I'm Shyne, and you?, you my destiny
And ya diamond cluster, to much just to touch ya
Perfume down to ya structure
Think I'll wait til the 2nd night to fuck ya
I wanna marry you, nah I'm just playin'
But we can start wit a few nights out in Malibu surfin'
Playin' up on Persian Here's my number
Put in ya purse and call me
Chorus:
[Barrington Levy]
On the telephone, she heard my voice
Tell me to pick her up in my Rolls Royce
If my Rolls Royce is not wit ladies
Then girl I'm gonna take you in my Mercedes
If my Mercedes will not fill up wit the disease
Then girl I'm gonna take you in my Firebird
If Firebird cannot take the curb
Girl put jah rust and da dime in jah bus

[Shyne]
I'm gettin' closer
My player days is over
Well maybe not completely, but stay alarmed
Come here huss ya head on my bed
And let me get between ya legs
Lay on ya back, uh - take it from the back
Like a bad girl suppose to,
I know you like that
Scream wake the neighbors when they sleep
Grab the sheets witcha teeth
Wiggle ya butt cheeks
Quarter styles over ya body, lick you up
Treat you like a convenient store, stick you up
Take you to the balcony, pick you up
So you can look at the city, while I'm diggin' ya kitty
Then we drivin' to the sunset Pull over, get up on the hood ma
I ain't done yet

Chorus
[Shyne] (Barrington Levy)
We've been together for a few months now
Did it all four seasons til the trunk
Beverly Hills bungalows In ya underclose
In Paris, Eiffel Tower Bubble baths and showers I
n a silindo sheen, sincere is what you seen
See me flip a couple things, go to magazines
And I - I think you might be the right one whoa(the right one)
Wait press the brakes, gotta investigate
What I do know - to you it don't matter
Whether my pockets is slim or fatter
Whether it's BBQs or Mr.Childs platter
Even if I slip off the success ladder
Even if the paragraphs didn't hit the charts and smash
If my car was a train I'd a service it back
I think you'll be right there(know you'll be right there)
Cuz we right there, yo cardier chaunce
Just you in my arms
No Sean don, just a bottle of avion

Chorus
[Barrington Levy]
So I draw from my tonic and I take one sip
Should've seen me cuz I gallop like a horse'll get whipped
Come quick yeahhhhhhhhh, come quick whoaaaaaaaaaa
Cuz she'll wild out and not tell on her
Although someone changed, wanna when I'll be back
I'ma love love love love love love you forever
Ohi Always be there - for me
Always be there Be there for me Ohhhhhhhhh,ayah
Ayah, ayah, ayah, ayah Ohhhhhhhhh For me, for me

Once upon a time, not long ago
When gangstas rock waves so dope and sniff lo'
There was a young G by the name of Shyne Poe
Puttin' it down, cuttin' it up and cookin' it now
It's been a lotta dick ridin' for lack of a betta words
Speculations on the guns I hold underneath my furs
Similarities in my voice nigga check the words
I'm in for winter to doe's that pinch merds from the cur
Dodgin' and dippin' the narcs
Since the young Frank Matthews the rap version
Touch my trap on my smack the gats burstin'
Now servin' leave ya face and ya chest and ya back jerkin'
Uh--y'all got me fucked up like
My desert eagle and my sick doom bust right
Like my guns is racin',muthafucka don't you know I
Make ya heart stop and ya body start shakin'
Now you know the bottom line of this rhyme crime
25 to life plus 9
Chorus: 2x
Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fed
Take it like a man or snitch like a bitch
Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fed
Pray to God,go hard or lay up in the morgue
Evil grin,dead eyes,walkin wit a bock, monster
Best way to describe my posture
In this world of sin hummas wicked as they come
Moonlightin' as a rapper get this ticket and I'm done
Ain't enough money here I ratha be in the tropics
Wit cau-si-cans when narcotics is the only topic
Persian rocks and things the man that made of snow
Tiger par
And every other form of raw
Since a team been handlin, nigga been scramblin'
Bettin' on money in Vegas gamblin'
Desert in the abdomen, pissy drunk stylin',staggerin'
More than you can imaginin
Uh--thoughts randomin, runnin through my mind
Like who's the best MC's - Biggie, Jay-Z, and Shyne
Demented as a young'n, apple 2nd comin'
Evil thoughts runnin' through my cerebellum
Shyne Poe what the fuck you gon' tell 'em?
All you niggas that wanna be fly my gun shots'll propell 'em
Leavin' somewhere smellin', repellin'
Crows caskets for you fuckin' bastads c'mon

Chorus: 2x

Only the strong survive,weak niggas bleed
And get found,wit they fuckin' face down
Numb from the waist down
I din been to hell and back
Twice and still in crack
Stay deaf and the eyes and never blink
And shots rip through my mink
Went to war wit the realist killas
Killed friends over jealousy and envy
My heart's empty
Behind the wheel of my Bentley
Cooped up feelin' invincible
'Bout to take over the world I can't be stopped
Not the feds or the fuckin' cops
Not even 17 shots
Can but a end to this terror
I'ma live forever,cuz gangstas don't break
We just get plastic surgery and relocate
To anotha state
Haulin',smilin',money pilin',wildin'
Yo Puff over done them fuckin' violins
Uh this shit is bigger than me though ask Oliver North
Kill you then use your corpse,to transport horse
Leave ya brains hangin' from ya fuckin' car window
Any nigga snitch and givin' info
Since my motha stomach coke and liquor
Was the mixture
Betta be prepared when we hit ya
Chorus: Fade til end

[Shyne]
Geah, uhh, uhh, uhh
Uh-huh, like that
Geah, uhh

Ten bricks nigga in the air, hold tec
It's that motherfuckin nigga named Shyne
Nothin but cum for these bitches, love none for these bitches
It's that motherfuckin nigga named Shyne

What's my motherfuckin name? Put a bullet in your brain
Leave your shirt stained, guns and cocaine
It's the best of a V&E
I'm like homes in Charlie's Angels, y'all never seein me
Heavenly indeed, measure me a key
My moms was a virgin when she had me
I rock flows, top O's, better yet, sell it wet
Tape ki's to bitches, I need the riches
Scene switches, big bitches, to hide snitches
Smile for the feds as they take pictures
It's the young G speakin; leavin niggaz leakin
Shots repeatin; around the clip somethin bound to hit
Y'all motherfuckers was counterfeit
Eat a dick and choke, as I sniff coke
Shyne pro, watch how you pronounce the shit
G'z up, hoes down while you motherfuckers bounce to this

[Chorus: Shyne]
Before your dog you're dyin and bustin your iron
Take the stand you're lyin, it's ok
If you cook it, cut it, watch - flooded
Hit niggaz in public and bitches love it, it's ok
If you high right now as they play this in the club
lookin for somethin to fuck, it's ok
If you startin with her, it's ok
If you snotty with him, it's ok

[Shyne]
With so much blocks in the N-Y-C
to burn 'em all down is kinda hard for me
But uhh, somehow, someway
I keep takin over motherfucker's gates like every single day
It's, the, rap, singer
Slash, coke, crack, slinger
Sling crack sling smack sling dick to dingbats
that try to pussy bootchie coochie, I'm in that
Kingpin raps, I spit 'em, fed NARC's, I dip 'em
Bentley and large rims spinnin, the shit is sickenin
My rhymes, my flow, I got all the symptoms
Rinks and links and trips to Harry Winston
Born sinner; think that model bitch I'm with is slim?
You chances of seein me are slimmer
I was through with it, before y'all knew what to do with it
Put my finger in the ground and turn the world around

[Chorus]

[Shyne]
From hip-hop to them hot blocks
It ain't never gon' stop; well maybe for three days
but then I'll return, more blacks to burn for more yea
Get them (??) sittin up on Broadway (geah)
Livin the life, ridin on Twinkies
Thirty inch rims spinnin, bitches is grinnin
Roscoe on my left, wonderin where the pussy at
so I can scheme the dope, get the pussy and float
Big things, live from the Empire State
where niggaz, live in fear of a 8-48
Don't owe my favors, jewelers deliberate
Shops have me spinnin like you was doin a figure eight
Gun in your mouth bitch, got a bitter taste
Push up hard on the arms - uhh, bitter face
Guerilla pimpin indeed
Shit I'm like a perm;
somethin every girl in the ghetto need

[Chorus] - 2X

[Shyne]
I just wanna move mad bricks
for all the days I never had shit
Now I'm young heartless and rich
Pistols and pussy, straight from the door
Brown paper bags full of blood money, need more
Too much ain't enough
High off dust, greed never endin
Catchin bodies I want Gotti was supposed to be
It's overwhelmin
Face smothered in cocaine, against all odds
Life is what you make it, well I made it
Leavin motherfuckers naked
I get excited watchin niggaz bleed helplessly
Put 'em out they misery, selflessly
A coward dies a thousand deaths
I got a thousand tecs
Takin niggaz with me when I got, fo'rilla
I'll probably be all pissu when I blow, fo'rilla
Adrenaline rushin blood bushin
It's nothin long as I'm bustin
All gangstas is dead, or in jail
except for me I posted bail, all hail

[Chorus 2X: Shyne]
Money be the root of all evil, calico desert eagles
Bitch I'm comin to see you, all you niggas gon' die
Motherfucker die

[Shyne]
Fast cars and plea bargains, pictchin niggaz wigs
Have they families donatin they fuckin organs
What you like, stress you up, press your luck
Better hope you hit seven or find yourself in heaven
Lost my conscience somewhere in between
watchin niggaz die and leavin the murder scene
Hot gun in my waist, stockin over my face
and I tell you niggaz this, I never miss, check it
My point of view is me or you
And I'ma burn anyway, what the fuck? Bust
seventeen shots up in your guts, truck blood drippin
Dead on arrival, leavin my rivals
lookin up at the clouds
The prodigal son, seein demons and devils
through the reflection, of my watch bezel
Embezzle, and racket, full metal, jackets
Poppin heat and, seekin, niggaz die internal bleedin
Hear mom screamin, bury Shyne
Cause when I come, motherfuckers all die

[Chorus] - 3X {*to fade*}

[Shyne]
Look at this nigga, stuntin in front of Justin's, actin silly
If it wasn't cops all over, I'd smack him with this milli
You hoe niggaz move a brick and think they rich
Get a few guns and a click and wanna take over shit
Ain't that the same kid that shot Reg in the head?
Turned him into a carrot, he might as well have been dead
Just came home from doin ten up in the Feds
Be extortin kingpins for they horse and they bread
Had the whole Brooklyn under pressure, I'm surprised he ain't test ya
Mad niggaz know better
I ain't comin up offa, no cheddar, no bricks, no nothin
I'll kick that motherfucker, FUCK HIM, yeah I'll pay him somethin
Pay his ass a visit, blow his brains on the sidewalk
Let him collect his thoughts..
.. I'm the strongest force in New York
til I'm a corpse, and even then, I'll be buried with bricks
and money-filled vaults, seventeen shots and two weeks later
I'm in the spot, takin it light
Watchin the Tyson fight it's packed, uh with killers and rats
Dope dealers, money hungry bitches, malicious
Cars pilin up the block for blocks nigga, Bentleys and 6's
This the place to be, where all the - gangsters meet
As I pick up my drink, I see my man Fat Pete
But before I could walk over, two niggaz tapped him on the shoulder
and unloaded in his face, bullets flyin all over the place
Mirrors shatterin, people scatterin, his bodyguards shot back
Missed one but hit the other, in the abdomen, they both fled
But who the fuck would do somethin so - brazen and reckless?
Had to be some niggaz tryin to send a message {*phone ringing*}
Next day I got a call from uptown to,
come have a meetin with The Council
bout the shit that's been goin down
Word is, same kid that killed Fat Pete shot Reg in the head
Bottom line he's out of control, he got to be dead
He's startin to be a real problem
Extortin niggaz, Brooklyn through Harlem
But he fucked around and crossed the margin, touched one of ours
He got to go, he from your hood, handle it Poe
Say no mo', I'm out the do'
Went back to the spot to grab the guns
Semi-auto check, AK-40 check, shotgun check, revolver - that's perfect
Called Tiz and told him meet me in an hour
Bring the caravan, you know the plan
Ski-masks and stockings, seen him down the ave. boppin
Him and a friend, just hopped in a Benz
Twenty inches on the rims, let's follow 'em slow, keep 'em in sight
Wait til he stop at a red light, then roll the window down
and kiss them bitches goodnight - they musta saw somethin
cause the Benz busted U and came at us firin shots
I threw the revolver, grabbed the tec and left the driver's side wet
The Benz ran in a store window and got wrecked
I hopped out the van, ran up to the scene, still holdin the tec
One nigga's body was split in half, the other nigga still movin
Heard sirens comin closer, as I'm bout to shoot him
But fuck it, I opened his mouth, and let the tec spray
and told him tell Satan I'm on my way - die bitch

[Shyne]
Hustler, bad motherfucker
Brooklyn to the rucker, Cali and back
Court cases pendin, all the blood drug money spendin
Ferrari engines leave your whole fuckin block tremblin
I'm what niggaz wanna be, a straight G
Whore bitches wanna suck and fuck for free
I'm Alpo, before you snitch dog
I switch lines and rhymes faster than I switch cars
Ghetto star, name ring in every hood
Heartless villain, money driven killin
and bury my opposition, for a pot to piss in
Knickerbock position, listen

[Chorus 2X: Shyne]
A hundred carats in the watch (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Gettin skull off in the parkin lot (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Bailin out when you locked (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Takin over spots and blocks (THAT'S GANGSTA)

[Shyne]
I got a question; as serious as cancer
Where da fuckin safe at? Somebody better answer
before I start killin and fillin these double-I slugs
in your mug then you spittin up blood
Got dead gangstas rollin over like, "Yo this nigga cold"
The way he cut his coke is murder game to his flow
Rich is, my only reason for bein, shit
I never had hope, until I sold dope
Drug game is infectious, got me livin reckless
Feds get uptight when they see my watch and necklace
glow, fuck 'em, they can't catch me
Murder and money, 'til they throw my ashes in the sea

[Chorus]

[Shyne]
Mac-10's, crush rocks and drops
The best respect, the feds only fuck cops
Coke price raisin, task force raidin
Bustin at secret agents runnin up out the Days Inn
Roller, diamonds and mack-milla's
Fillers and loud pipes for all my killers
Money hungry honies around, the killer streets and the law
The opium and the raw, that's what I live for
For cuttin yea, never for today
Extended magazines shootouts and ricochets
Play a role and catch a bullethole, pop your blood vessels
Ain't gonna wait before the smoke settles

[Chorus]

{*scratching "Serious shit"*}

[Shyne]
Money in brown paper bags (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Servin fiends on the ave (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Menage red labels (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Honies with diamonds up in they navel (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Showin love to your hood (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Leavin cowards layin where they stood (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Floodin your homey's commisary up (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Never missin when we bust (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Money in brown paper bags (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Servin fiends on the ave (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Menage red labels (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Honies with diamonds up in they navel (THAT'S GANGSTA)
Showin love to your hood (THAT'S GANGSTA)
{*music fades out*}

Verse 1:
Leave nigga layin' stiffer than my dick when it's up in a tight clit
return the Devils hate by fuckin' a white bitch
bitches ain't shit but some hips,
tits, clits, and some fat lips to wrap around my dickTesti Canzoni
check it, ghetto girl in designer type
she could get it 'long as the vagina tight
keep they nose numb, high off of china white
kinda like the quartz, I knock 'em down, runnin' through my system,
pussy ain't right hit 'em with a aww naaaw
if the head right get remanded behind bars bizarre
grand jury endightment, lifetime sentence, stash my coke in they bra
the hustl-ar, ya'll custom-ar's
posted up on Broadway in a custom R
25 Mil' in the trunk
Nicky Barnes style on my way to the trunk
bitch lets bump.

Chorus (Shyne and Female)
No, (fuck these bitches, fuck these bitches, fuck 'em)
I don't love these bitches, fuck these hoes
No, (fuck these niggas, fuck these niggas, fuck 'em)
I don't love these niggas, fuck these niggas
('till the day that I die never get none of mine)
No, (fuck these bitches, fuck these bitches,
fuck these bitches, fuck 'em)
I don't love these niggas, fuck these scrubs
No, fuck these niggas (Four Karat thug niggas want some love)

Verse 2:
I'm that nigga Priest from Supafly after he died
reincarnated, keep a bitch wide
on the bed tied
like "Uh! Uh! Uh!", stop I'm tired
besides my Moms a bitch' lips never touch my face,
maybe my girl, but I be watchin' her funny
like "Who dick you suckin' while I'm on tour gettin' money
tryin' to wash this crack money?"
I give a bitch nothin' but sperm
when you niggas gon' learn?
Discern queens from sluts, love from lust
The ones who ate pussy and take it in the butt
20 stacks in my pockets, I'm cheap
fuckin' treatin' a freak to eat
I got KY Jelly and grease
and a stick of bubble gum bitch, you want a piece?
C'mon....

Chorus

Verse 3:
Never met a bitch I liked enough to love
and I share with my mothafuckin' nigga Buzz
let the Homies get up on it,
treat a bitch like a blunt, hit, hit, pass
head on my dick 'till she get whiplash
fuck it I'm cold, some bitches is colder
runnin' game just to get up in the Rover
Platinum R, Platinum Jehovah
not here bitch, fuck what they told ya'
Keys to the condo, Gucci ensamble
gaul streams in Santa Fe` doin' the Mambo
laid back where the shade's at
white sand, tan, how many bitches can say that?
you want that? we can do that...yeah right
not in your life
stay focused, get my money, every penny
fuck if your legs broke bitch, crawl on ya' belly

Chorus 'till fade...

Ben, the two of us need look no more
We both found what we were looking for
With a friend to call my own
I'll never be alone
And you my friend will see
You've got a friend in me

Ben, you're always running here and there
You feel you're not wanted anywhere
If you ever look behind
And don't like what you find
There's something you should know
You've got a place to go

I used to say
I and me
Now it's us
Now it's we
I used to say
I and me
Now it's us
Now it's we

Ben, most people would turn you away
I don't listen to a word they say
They don't see you as I do
I wish they would try to
I'm sure they'd think again
If they had a friend like Ben
Like Ben
Like Ben

Its over nigga one sandscript
The heckler makes good fellas run frantic
Guns i brandish make men vanish
Got bodies in Kansas, across the Atlantic
Once me and lance hit, you don't wanna chance it
no matter how you plan, you can't antic-
ipate it, stupid nigga hestiated
Now his remains be cremated
(?)(?)(?) never debated
The killings clean, its shyne related
Do it like suicide can't retrace it
Heckler Koch too hot? Gotta replace it
Charge is murder, never attempted
I tried, you died cause no defense is
Strong enough to withstand my assault
Before I go hit your safe and the vault
They fled through the night (?)(?)
Hitler hit ya, lives is lost
Bodies is found dead, no remorse
Gun fire to the tire, to exhaust
Catch fire, we aspire to extort
Kids with valuables in all resources
Cops will never find where the corpse is
While we driving 12's, and box porsches
[Hook 2x]
We cop their names and squeeze ,Hit the target, then flee
So nigga tell me what you wanna do ,Is dying what you wanna do?
Organized crime, mafia
Touch mine got heckler koch for ya
Daily news nigga, make ya popular
Gone by the morn, while maggots rotten ya
So be cautious, you don't wanna cross us
Force us, to leave your body corpsed up
(?)(?)(?)Tell em boys horsed up
While we fledding 12's 300 horsed up
My hand never far from the safety,
Fucking with me? too bad for your safety
Nigga hard stares, kill that
Before you find yourself tied up and kidnapped
Chopped up, let em find out where your ribs at
Days later; send it to your mom gift wrapped, get that?
I say fuck a fist fight ;banana clip fights
is what im into ,100 rounds into you
for the torque and this aint interview
shootin every inch of you
then hit the mall and buy a mink or two
Brooklyn gettin money, that be the principal
[Hook]
I got guns armstrong like BJ
Have you runnin fast like its a relay
race, pray once im reachin my weights
No bullets (?) (?) and weights ,He dont know i kill armies
Dont tell him when bullets hit him and figure like Tommy
Get the picture, sweet dreams when i kiss ya
Rock the sleep, wrap the sheets, call the priest
Talk is cheap, ,Bullets pricly I make you pay me
The cost might be ,An arm, a leg or an organ
L.A to New York, fuck your origin
Im killin, send national guards in
To stop me ,Killed more crews than Motley
Cop the ,Heckler 50 caliber
Blaze andything standing my diameter
Hook] Die slow nigga, die slow
Die slow nigga, die slow ,Die slow nigga, die slow
Die slow cocksucker, die slow *Gun fire while beat fades out*