Intro:
[Outside a dance club. The “Tootsee Roll” beat is boomin’ inside.]
MAN: What’s up, baby? They done had that last call for alcohol and
everything, what’s up, you gon’ come back to the ‘mote with me or what?
WOMAN: But what about yo’ girlfriend? She s’posed to be my friend.
MAN: Come on, come on, baby, don’t worry ’bout her, I mean we can leave
here, go get something to eat. You hungry?
WOMAN: Mmm … yeah … I’m hungry a lil’ bit. I just …
MAN: Hey, you can bring your friends if you want, I got my boys back at
the hotel … so what you gon’ do?
WOMAN: (sigh) You really gon’ pay my phone bill?
– – – – – – –
{Ooooh, I got a winner! I think I got a winner!}
Uh! Uh! Ahh baby, here we go now!

Verse 1: Thrill Pa Dlaya
Hey baby doll, what’s up? ‘Scuse the mood, I’m a lil’ bit bored
And normally, I don’t try to take girls home after the club
But you got that flavor ride, and I’m kinda hungry
Not only that, strictly by myself, sometimes I tend to get lonely
So let’s find this camp, and get a lil’ something to eat
Get back to the ‘mote and kick off them shoes so I can rub them feet
And we both dogs, baby, so we ain’t got to joke
If you’re down, I’ll get to the car and we can head to the ‘mote!

Chorus (2x):
{Let’s go to the motel, let’s go to the ‘mote
I won’t tell if you don’t tell!}
Jay-Ski:
{Let’s go to the motel!} Girl, don’t have no shame!
{I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} How you’ll be gettin’ that pocket
change!
{Let’s go to the motel!} Girl, you know the deal!
{I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} How you’ll be payin’ that phone bill!
Verse 2: The Rottweiler
It’s the last call for alcohol, baby, so let’s leave the club
I wanna get in the tub and rub-a-dub, ’cause I’m in the mood for lo-ove …
You wanted barbecue or mildew, girl, so what you wanna do?
We can go to the Hilton, Motel 6 or get a room at the Peek-A-Boo, uh
So eat your Wheaties, sweetie, and yo, you can best believe
Bring your toothbrush, a fresh pair of panties, yo, and that’s all you need
So let’s keep it a G thang, (?), uhh, and please don’t go tell
That you’re makin’ noise with the 69 Boyz, so let’s go to the motel, uhh!

Chorus

Jay-Ski:
{Let’s go to the motel!} And we can have some fun!
{I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} How you’ll be gettin’ them braids done!
{Let’s go to the motel!} Girl, don’t try to shine!
{I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} Where you workin’ part time!

{Ho-tel, mo-tel, I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} (4x)
{Ooooh, I got a winner! I think I got a winner!} (4x)

Verse 3: Thrill Da Playa
Don’t holler ’bout, I don’t know ya, and you don’t know me
‘Cause if your booty big, then I’ma learn to dig your personality
I’m real, though; I ain’t fake, heyyy, I want them skins
And you can bring your big booty buddies too;
I got a motel full of friends:
Danny, Tony T, Lemonhead, A.B., Daddy Black and Jay
You got three more friends?
Well, I do too: the Rottweiler, Rico and DJ M.A.!
We got rooms at the 6, so let’s handle our business
Find this camp and go to the ‘mote so I can rub-a-dub that Guinness!

{I got a trick! A treat!} (8x)
{Ooooh, I got a winner! I think I got a winner!} (4x)

Chorus

Jay-Ski:
{Let’s go to the motel!} Girl, you know the time!
{I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} It’s better than waitin’ in that welfare
line!
{Let’s go to the motel!} Girl, it ain’t gon’ hurt!
{I won’t tell if you don’t tell!} How you got that dual invert!
Yeah baby! Here we go, come on, come on, here we go, baby!
(leads into “Ding Dong Song”)Check out more Lyrics from 69 Boyz. 
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[Chorus: TQ]
All I ever wanted to do was be da man
Get out the ghetto and feed my whole fam
But the dirty streets in the city won’t let me go (let me go, let me go)

All I ever wanted to do was be da man
Get out the ghetto and feed my whole fam
But quarter ki’s make G’s that’s all i know (all i know, all i know)

[Trick Daddy]
A hit of crack frock could get ya fucked up
A ki of coke could get you rich
but too much of this shit can get you stuck up
That’s why it’s best to deal wit a nigga that you know and chill wit
Case he flip the script, you know where he live at
Plus, the game don’ came a long way
Yeah we don’ lost a lot of niggas that was speedin down the wrong way
See these days these niggas squeeze triggas quicker than yo boys
Cuz they got guns bigger than yours
Plus ain’t not more coppin out
You either ridin or tellin, if you ride then you ride forever
Born the son of a straight killa
Raised by a strong woman, I’ll ride for my homies
So, can a nigga get a boooonnnd
Or do another nigga have to come along and raise my daughter……son
Your Honor, answer this question and be honest
If you lock me up for the summer will you support my momma?

[Chorus]

[Baby]
Ay ay, move on over (wooooo)
I sit and took over
2 clips, the AK holder
Brick taped to my bitch
Strapped on her shoulder
Raw grams in the trunk of a jag
Hard ounces stashed in my cadillac dash
It’s drought season daddy, we huntin for riches
We fly like birds go divin for fishes
A known deep boy, the #1 Stunna
Got a hundred brick stash in the back of the Hummer
But on my block, a old tymer got shot
I didn’t wanna do it but he was holdin my spot
I’m shittin on niggas, grandma got grams
She gave me a revolver, automatics get jammed
I’m *Hood Rich* nigga one feet in the sand
I’m one of a few niggas that beat the man

[Chorus]

[Mannie Fresh]
See, check it out, the dope game is a mother fucker, young man
I bet you yo lil ass ain’t even got a gun man
You in the game now you know what you don’ done man?
“Yeah, bruh but i gotta feed my son man”
A cutlass supreme, still a young nigga’s dream
A solid lil bitch with a whole lot of cream
Well lil one looky here, who you scorin from?
Look, this some shit that’ll leave a nigga body numb
Take that, the comeback is incredible
Get caught, then nigga it’s federal
By the way, don’t say no mother fuckin names
You listenin to me? Don’t play no mother fuckin games
You know the rules of this shit
Fuck around and be one dead bitch
It’s money and the power
Every second every hour
From sco’ to the flo’
Bakin soda to the flour

Check out more Lyrics from Big Tymers F/ TQ, Trick Daddy. 
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(Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one)

[Juvenile]
Welcome to tha section where it’s hotter than a bitch
Niggas breakin’ up bricks, niggas tryin’ ta be rich
Dope ounce get hit, armed ‘rilla insists
somebody wig get split…for ten G’s of chips
It’s where the Feds’ll dip through ? enemies get you
Catch you at tha second line, niggas’ll flip you
Kids get outta school, they swingin’ they fists, too
Jump one of them children and they bringin’ they clique, too
L.D. buckin’ ’cause T.C. killin’ ain’t nothin’
Tha blues try ta hit ya and you had to keep druggin’
On New Year’s, tha lights get shut out at six o’clock
Four or five o’clock in tha mornin’ you gon’ be gettin’ shot!
Niggas gettin’ chopped, gettin’ shot in tha crowd, bruh
Drug deal gone bad, one of them cats was sour
Motherfuckers gettin’ chopped up, and they have a…
…Carbine aimed at your dome…for some powder
I’ma do like your boy and hop in tha Eddie Bauer
Get off seventeen, and, nigga, I’ma holla!

(Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one)

(Hook [Mannie Fresh])
Da…Magnolia
Home…of tha soldiers
Da…Magnolia
Home…of tha soldiers
Now, where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?

[Juvenile]
Is ya ready for it? Better be over-prepared
When ya enter ya see a sign, say, “SOLDIERS BEWARE”
And they be ragged up, twenty-five dollar bagged up
Whole nickel tucked in tha back of his ‘Baud cuffs
Well aware on the route that he’s gonna duck…
…if somebody thinkin’ ’bout jammin’ him up
If a bitch with him, she better be smart, or tough luck
’cause he gon’ break and bust; she gon’ be fucked up
Mind your business is a code, too, I never told…
…ever since a nigga was a million years old
Bein’ a ballin? shot caller…is tha goal
I’ll hospitalize anybody…in the roll
To make it there, you talk crazy, we take it there
You’ll feel like a steak, nigga: you medium-rare
All these niggas wan’ be tip-rats or tha man in charge
With tha AK-47, it’ll change you boys

(Hook [Mannie Fresh])

[Juvenile]
Clique up, load up…pistols, mask
Ride through, slow down, jump out, blast
Put ?bout…fifty…in your…ass
Second…linin’…family…scared
Go score, rock it, chop it, serve it
Got a…deal for…fifty, twurk it
Mission: riches, hittin’…switches,
twenty…inches, plenty…bitches
All day, hustle ? beaucoup…scuffle
Niggas…huddle, AK…muffled
Blood in…puddles, people…scatter
Flying…pieces…of human…matter
Police…don’t know ? probly…won’t know
Unless…it?s they…shit, they…don’t know
Keep it…quiet, tell no…body
Start no…shit and…stay in…silence
Maintain…focus, stay off…porches
Watch for…roaches, carry…toasters

(Hook [Mannie Fresh])
Da…Magnolia
Home…of tha soldiers
Da…Magnolia
Home…of tha soldiers
Da…Magnolia
Home…of tha soldiers
Da…Magnolia
Home…of tha soldiers
Now, where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?

[Mannie Fresh]
Where you goin’, motherfucker, where you goin’?
Where you from, motherfucker, where you from?
I know where I’m goin’ ? to tha fuckin’ Magnolia
Believe that there
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Layin’ it down, mm-hmm
Layin’ it down, mm-hmm, mm-hmm
To 3000

(Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…)

(…one)Check out more Lyrics from Juvenile F/ Mannie Fresh. 
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Yo la vi cantando en Paris
Ella quiso estar junto de mi
Yo me sorprendi
Quando dijo Yaleo


Vamos caminando el ise
Tomando vino y partiendo pan
Ella dijo dame dame ya YALEO YALEO


YALEO YALEO YALEO YALEO
Tika n?gai wa yo
Simba n?gai wa yo yaya


Si tu pudieras desir me ami
Yo no lo creo lo que pasa aqui
Ella es mia y me da su amor
Estoy complete y soy feliz
Ahora tengo nios que dicen Yaleo
Check out more Lyrics from Santana. 
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Ughhhhh…….
Good Day America this is Mr. No Limit
So you want to get rid of gansta rap
but what if gansta rap gets rid of you
how’d you like them apples
you want your kids to grow up listenin’ to good american music
but they don’t want that they want that bout it bout it shit
you always point the finger at the bad guy
but what if the bad guy points the finger at you
fuck the politcians the media and the government
the fucking world was built on corruption
if it wasn’t for people like me and my reality music
you couldn’t pay for a meal
I’m tired of you fucking hustlers following me around
tapping my phone and over taxing my money
you know what a hustler is
its a pig that don’t fly straight
but its ok (its ok)
when you finish listening to this tape
it’ll be the last time you hear a bad guy like me
so fuck you cockaroaches sincerly the last don
Master P The Last Don
[Master P]
I made millions from raps I couldn’t die in scraps
No Limit niggas we strapped thug niggas bust caps
I live the life of a rider lost at heart
I played the pieces to the puzzles but they tore me apart
I went to jail for shit I didn’t do
niggas banged at my motherfuckin’ crew
we retaliated now we killers (Ughhhhhh)
niggas slang ghetto dope cain but we drug dealers
ain’t that a bitch a nigga tryin’ make it
can’t bust society but these fools tryin’ take me
they want you dead or locked up smokin’ or rocked up
walkin’ or blocked up down or cocked up
In the bayou haters six feet deep it could be you or me
your girl or your homey
cause life has no time but keep your eyes on your enemies
that’s one that’s grown from the Last Don
he took the kiss of death so I could be The Last Don (4X)
2Pac, Biggie Smalls, My little Brother Kevin Miller
they all took the kiss of death so I could be the last don
real niggas and bitches out there feel my pain
feel my pain its real out here
ain’t no such thing as uh.. you can’t change your life
you can’t do what you wanna do
a coward dies a million deaths but a solider only dies one
so all ya niggas out there in the hood tryin’ feed your families
get what you gotta get and get out nigga get your shit together
and if you hustlin’ hustle for a cause nigga
don’t believe in nobody but your motherfuckin’ self
cause money’s the root of all evil
we done lost alot of soldiers behind them dollars
this one is grown from the last Dizon you heard meCheck out more Lyrics from Master P. 
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Yeah Dirty up in here son
It’s the original, the Haitian straight from Kingston the Virgin Island
Better known for the Swamp
Come doooooown!!

[The Pimp]
Now I’m up early in the mornin’ scratchin’ my ass (ughhh)
Pick out my black and cream gators with the shirt to match
Hop in the shower and I’m back later 6 minutes flat
Brush all my gold teeth then I hop in the Lac (okay)
You see them all gold rims, they 250 like that
Them junkies down the street’ll shine ’em for a nickel of crack
I got them woofers in the back shakin’ the trunk like that
If I ain’t rollin’ Eightball, hell I’m beatin’ that Outkast
Since I’m on this side now let me get me a sack
I get my wood from Pimpin’ Small cause they obese and fat
Before I get to his house shit I’ll probably smoke me a black
Or hit the store and buy me some Newports in a soft pack
And I don’t even like cigarettes cause I’m a weed-head fiend
When I smell that wood nigga it’s like the first day of spring
Shit be good to a nigga, let me get 2 for 15
Really 10 cause I owe ya 5 from last week
Cause we gon’ ride and ball all day
Turn off of ? Street and hit ? Parkplace
I got that crack that cut like butter nigga Parkay
Now did you get that, I’m finna pass P the coke
I see my kinfolks, my Crips and Bloods slangin’ dope
And that’s why cause there’s plenty junkies out here smoked
We hit the Boulevard headed to the liquor store
That’s kinda odd you didn’t hear the Pimp freak a hoe
I hit the Eastside and get some head I’m out the do’
Now I’m on the Westside where the money flow
Money flow, money flow, money flow, money flow, money flow

[Hook]
Weeeell we in Da Land where these niggaz got love for the cash
Da Land where these niggaz dump slugs in yo ass
Da Land where these niggaz ride vogues on triple golds
Da Land where these niggaz stay hi off weed smoke
That’s why I love Montgomery like I love women
Cause every nigga from the Gump got a little thug in ’em
I love Montgomery like I love women
Cause every nigga from the Gump got a little thug in ’em

[Pimpin’ Small]
You know the Roly I sport it keep on windin’
All that flossin’ on gold it be on tires
Any track my voice on must be the finest
You check yo ice you check my ice, my ice the shinest

???? I can’t deny it
A junkie hi off weed is how you’ll find me
My name is Small but I’m not small timin’
I’m with them Dirty Boys and all I do is ride shit

[Burn One]
Now if you catch me with yo girl you’ll probably spray at me
But when them junkies want them dubs they throw that pay at me
I’m Da Burn One shawty, them hoes stay at me
So since I’m with them Dirty Boys throw some play at me
I got some niggaz that’ll ride all day with me
And when that shit poppin’ off they bust a K with me
Now if you see me in my hood nigga wave at me
And if you got that killa wood throw some hay at me

Hook

[Mr. Blue]
That nigga Blue off in this bitch I’m hollerin’ Dirty for life
Keep on spittin’ out that shit that make them niggaz rewind
Keep on spittin’ out that shit that make them niggaz do time
Keep on spittin’ out that shit that make them hoes recline
Ride my Chevy through the Gump and niggaz know that it’s mine
Cause my headlights be on and all my gold teeth shine (bling)
Love the Gump like I love Dirty, girls, and rhymes
And I’m gon’ love it till the day the Lord holds it down

[Mr. G]
Now down here we quick to buck fool, niggaz quick to rush you
So you haters better watch what you say
Oooh my nigga when we smoked out, niggaz gettin’ choked out
We let them automatic 9 milli’s spray
Now we in Da Land where them drugs be too clout, them hoes smoke you out
When them niggaz talk shit we run up in them niggaz house
We them niggaz from the Gump it aCheck out more Lyrics from Dirty F/ Burn One, Mr. Blue, Pimpin’ Small. 
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que te olvidaste de mi
que se ha escapado el amor
por el portal del astio
que te dice el corazon
que hallaras en otros brazos
lo que no hallaste en los mios
que es la rutina tal vez
y neccesitas vivir
para aprender a querer
y no comprendes mi bien
que no basta con la piel
para llenar el vacio
da la vuelta y vete ya
hoy te doy la libertad
de volar a donde quieras
algun dia tu veras
que dificil es hallar
quien te de su vida entera
y mientras tanto mi amor
yo guardare mi tristeza
todo este amor de verdad
que no tieno otro lugar
que tu corazon y el mio
da la vuelta y vete ya
si te pide el corazon una nueve ilusion
y vete ya y que se vaya contigo este amor
da la vuelta y vete ya
que yo se muy bien que muy pronto tu me vas a extranar
vete ya vete ya vete ya donde quieras
te doy la libertad
si no me quieres tu te lo pierdas
amor que te vaya bien
si te olvidaste de mi vete yo no vote
tu veras que es dificil hallar
quien te de su vida entera
y te entregue el corazon
como lo hizo yo como lo hizo yo

sigue tu camino que no hay la vuelta contigo
da la vuelta y vete tu no me convienes
sigue tu camino que no hay la vuelta contigo
que te vaya bien mujer vete
sigue tu camino que no hay vuelta contigo, vete
si no me vas a querer no hay vuelta contigo
no me atormentes mujer no hay vuelta contigo vete
que poquito a poco yo te olvidare
Check out more Lyrics from Marc Anthony. 
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Welcome to the darkside.
Backwards (Shatasha): It’s the thuggish ruggish Bone . . .
Eazy-E: Eternal. Eternal. Eternal . . .
St. Clair, niggas [niggas, niggas].
[Laughing. Scream. Thunder.]
Backwards (Bizzy): Gotta give it on up to the glock glock, pop pop, better drop before them buckshot blow. The Bone in
me never no ho, so no creepin’ up outta the ziplock. So, Sin, sip gin, and Lil’ Mo Heart run up, nut up, and flipped in, then
slipped in the clip then, mistakin’ they bloody victims. ‘Member to test nuts . . .
[Explosion.]
Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck!
[Laughing.]
Right back at your muthafuckin’ ass comes those real true thugs staight of the Double Glock, puttin’ it down for the muthafuckin’
Land, takin’ no shorts, no losses, puttin’ it on these jealous, bitch-made, playa hatin’ ass niggas. You better tell me what’s real,
bitch. Takin’ over shit in the nine five, I bring to you the one and only, Bone thugs-n-harmony.
Nigga, this St. Clair [this St. Clair, this St. Clair].

Layzie:
Yeah, nigga.
Krayzie:
Execution double nine style, steadily fillin’ them bodies underground.
Bizzy:
Nigga be all about that llello bankroll. Bet I make that money, man, then roll, put it on the dough, but I beat up hoes, and I peel
’em and bang. Gotta get them demons off me, creepin’ up softly, seepin’ up through my soul, and sleepin’ ain’t good til dawn.
When I’m alone, and I’m dozin’, bet I watch the door, then I won’t be slippin’, sleepin’. Lovin’ the thugs I bails with, but a trail
of twelve gauge shells, blood’ll be spilled, one-eighty-seven and a two-eleven. Twelve gauge and an AK-47 spray. Lil’ Ripsta
killa now, put ’em off in a grave–they lay with a slug stuck all up in ya. When I roll with realer niggas, pop, pop. Drop to the
sound, hit the ground, then I’m up to kill ya.

Krayzie:
Them St. Clair thugs, we love when they pumpin’ them slugs, now what, see the blood from the scum, when I dug them
enemies deep in the mud. They drugged. I roll with them trues. Snooze, you lose, end up on the alley floor fucked up. What’s
up with them shoes? Ooh, they new. So we runnin’ off with my dog’s Chucks. Bust a left at the block. Hey, what do ya
know? Oh, no, the po-po–they follow. Copper gotta see the nigga layin’ but can’t escape, but nigga, remember my motto:
me no surrender. Gotta get away, hit the fence with the quickness, hit the other side, and I swang to the ride, rollin’ through the
cut, hit ninety-five. Peel, bailin’ for safety we make it and chill, gotta make a mill, better not get caught for real. Nigga, drop
that bill, or I pop my steel. Ain’t no competition, don’t fuck with my click, and so listen you bitches that trippin’ so get when we
stickin’ then lickin’ them pockets. So drop that dollar, man. Gotta holler, bang. Fuckin’ with a thug nigga smokin’ blunts.
Nigga, don’t stiff on the weed, smoke it all, ’cause, nigga, you know when our pockets get (?) I’m a run and get a sack, and
come choke, choke, choke.

Layzie:
Now you’re fuckin’ with these thuggish killas, creepin’ up outta the Land, and they ready to ride, gettin’ high off thai. My niggas
in the Land got glocks for days on the nine-nine. But I kill ’em all, dog. Bet Layzie don’t fall with the twelve gauge eruption on
niggas, so what now? Come, nigga, get buck, pow, and not only that, get shut the fuck down. And I’m talkin’ about niggas
that wanna contend with them thugstas. Some niggas done fucked up, never no playa haters in the click’s allowed, and we
never no bustas. Never catch a nigga sleep, hear the buckshots rang where the thugs in Cleveland dwell. Daily collectin’ me
mill, and I’ll meet you in hell if all else fails. Oh, well.

Krayzie:
Execution double nine style,
with Layzie:
steadily sendin’ that body underground
Check out more Lyrics from Bone Thugs N Harmony. 
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I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Somebody told me that his name was Bill
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Yeah, my heart stood still, yeah, his name was Bill
And when he walked me home, da do ron ron ron, da do
ron ron
I know what he was thinking when he caught my eye
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
He looked so quiet but, my oh my
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Yeah, he caught my eye, yeah but my oh my
And when he walked me home, da do ron ron ron, da do
ron ron
He picked me at seven and he looked so fine
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Someday soon I’m gonna make him mine
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Yeah, he looked so fine, yeah I’ll make him mine
And when he walked me home, da do ron ron ron, da do
ron ron
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron
Da do ron ron ron, da do ron ron Check out more Lyrics from Rolling Stones. 
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I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still

Da doo ron ron ron

Da doo ron ron

Somebody told me that his name was Bill

Da doo ron ron ron

Da doo ron ron



Yeah, my heart stood still

Yeah, his name was Bill

And when he walked me home

Da doo ron ron ron

Da doo ron ron



Yeah, he looked so fine

Yeah, I’ll make him mine

And when he walked me home

Da doo ron ron ron

Da doo ron ron



Yeah da doo ron ron

Da doo ron ron ron

Da doo ron ron



Yeah da doo ron ron

Da doo ron ron ron

Da doo ron ron
Check out more Lyrics from The Carpenters. 
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