Whitey, Whitey, Whitey, Whitey... Ford, Ford...
Whitey, Whitey, Whitey, Whitey... Ford, Ford...
[Female Vocals]
The white boy is back
And you know he can never be wack
The white boy is back
The white boy is back
With his foot up in your ass crack
The white boy is back ('cause you know he's the white boy)
The white boy is back
And you know that he never smoke crack
The white boy is back ('cause you know he's the white boy)
Everlast - Whitey Ford Sings the Blues Album Lyrics
Everlast - Whitey Ford Sings the Blues Lyrics
Writer: DAMON YUL WIMBLEY, DARREN ROBINSON, KURTIS WALKER, MARK MORALES
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Money (Dollar Bill)
[ Featuring Sadat X ]
Dollar dollar bills
Deutch, marks, franks, yens, and pounds
I rock the jocked up sounds
From Devenshire Downs
Out the Fordham Road
Up top in the boogie
I be loyal to my peeps
Like budha stud doogie
Never very bad news
Payin' crazy dues
I'm blowin' out crews
And tamin' mad shrews
Like Bill Shakespeare
The fakes will disappear
The flavor in your ear
Is strong like Everclear
Two hundred proofs
So put the match to the roof
And set this bitch on fire
Get rich, the empire's
About to strike back
If you rock the mic wack
And that's the way it is 'cause yo
It's like that
[Sadat X]
Money, money y'all
It be the root of all evil
[Sadat X]
Money, money y'all
It makes you popular with people
I go back to the 80's
Like three times a lady
When it was pussy for free
And crack for currency
It just occurred to me
It's time for surgery
I remove MC's like tumors
The lies and the rumors
Got me thinkin' of this dub
By Timex Social Club
Yo, word to my momma
I'm high off the trauma
Whitey Ford gets deeper than subway trains
And I serve lazy fools like fast food chains
All pain no gain
Makes the brain insane
Life in the fast laneT
He flakes the cash gains (for real)
[Sadat X]
Dollar bill y'all
Dollar bill y'all
Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y'all
It takes money
[Sadat X]
To get that fly ass ho
It takes money
[Sadat X]
To see me rock a live show
It takes money
[Sadat X]
To get that last bag of smoke
'Cause they kindly take from it when that ass was broke
Hey yo I'm about to g-off
Just like my name was Ed-o
Black kids call me whitey
Spanish kids wetto
White kids call me the king of this be -boy thing
If it's broke then fix it
If it's wack remix it
Can't none of you MC's ever f*ck with these
You be crazy on my dick
Like some porno chick
For the style that I'm blessin'
Ain't no second guessin'
Kid heed the lesson, subtraction, addition
Reward for submissionA
In to no debate
Won't stop till I'm eatin' off a platinum plate
I want the stocks and bonds
Plus the real estate
I want the iron gates
And low interest rates
Plus a fly little spot to bring all my dates
A little stash of the cash put aside in a safe
When times get lean
Y'all know what I mean
[Sadat X]
Money money y'all
Some be callin' it cream
[Sadat X]
Money money y'all
Some be callin' it fame
[Sadat X]
Money money y'all
But once I get it I'm J
I want cash and checks
I want diamond rings
I want jewels on my neck
And mad fly things
I want a stack of fat chips
So I can take long trips
I want to sail the Bahamas
On my own cruise ships
I want acres of land
I want papers in hand
I want stocks and bonds
All pros no cons
Hey if it smells funny
Then back it up honey
I want the money y'all
I need the money y'all...
Writer: STEVEN DENNIS, ANTHONY LEE FRANCIS, DAVID HARPER, MICHAEL JOHN MCKNIGHT, ROSS MILLARD
Copyright: Lyrics © DOMINO PUBLISHING COMPANY, O/B/O DistroKid, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © DOMINO PUBLISHING COMPANY, O/B/O DistroKid, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Ends
Everything must change...
Ends...
[CHORUS:]
some people would rob their mother for the ends
Rat snitch on one another for the ends
Sometimes kids get murdered for the ends
So before we go any further I'm on my ends
I knew this cat named Dale
Who didn't have a dollar
He was Harvard material
Ivy League scholar
Had a PHD
An MBA
But now he's waitin' tables 'cause there's rent to pay
Company's down sizin'
Inflation's risin'
Can't find a job
He's feelin' kind of stressed
Doesn't even feel the effects when he says
Forgot to count how many times he's been blessed
So he falls off track
Starts smokin' the crack
And once it hits his brain
It starts a chain react
Sells the shirt off his back
The shoes off his feet
He's losin' all his teeth
Now he's out on the street
And all of the sudden he's like Jesse James
Tryin' to stick up kids for their watches and chains
But he's from business school
And he's nervous with the tool
So he ends up on his back in a bloody pool
For the ends
[CHORUS]
I knew this chick named Sally
She had a nice strut
And everywhere that I went she was up in the cut
Swingin' that butt like "place your ad here"
Only rapped the Benz
And rocked the fly gear
Brand name wearin'Champagne wavin'
Jewels around the neck
A lotta style she's cravin'
Ain't no savin'
She's doin' all the spendin'
If you do the lendin'
She'll do the bendin'
Straight machine vendin'
That's money for tail
Shoppin' sprees get her on her knees
And then you hit her with the keys of your krib you actin' funny
Come home one day find her countin' out your money
From the Wetlands all the way to the Apollo
If you broke she's spittin'
If you're rich she might swallow
For the ends
[CHORUS]
I knew these two homeboys
That made a lot of noise
Makin' money on the block
The kids was on their jock
They was tougher than leather
Like Reverend Run
DMC they was tokin' guns
Hold and wait
Goin' out of state
Stackin' mad chips
And pushin' phat wears
Fly jewels and clothes
And got no job
And then one disappeared
And one got robbed
For the ends
[CHORUS x2]
Ends...
[CHORUS:]
some people would rob their mother for the ends
Rat snitch on one another for the ends
Sometimes kids get murdered for the ends
So before we go any further I'm on my ends
I knew this cat named Dale
Who didn't have a dollar
He was Harvard material
Ivy League scholar
Had a PHD
An MBA
But now he's waitin' tables 'cause there's rent to pay
Company's down sizin'
Inflation's risin'
Can't find a job
He's feelin' kind of stressed
Doesn't even feel the effects when he says
Forgot to count how many times he's been blessed
So he falls off track
Starts smokin' the crack
And once it hits his brain
It starts a chain react
Sells the shirt off his back
The shoes off his feet
He's losin' all his teeth
Now he's out on the street
And all of the sudden he's like Jesse James
Tryin' to stick up kids for their watches and chains
But he's from business school
And he's nervous with the tool
So he ends up on his back in a bloody pool
For the ends
[CHORUS]
I knew this chick named Sally
She had a nice strut
And everywhere that I went she was up in the cut
Swingin' that butt like "place your ad here"
Only rapped the Benz
And rocked the fly gear
Brand name wearin'Champagne wavin'
Jewels around the neck
A lotta style she's cravin'
Ain't no savin'
She's doin' all the spendin'
If you do the lendin'
She'll do the bendin'
Straight machine vendin'
That's money for tail
Shoppin' sprees get her on her knees
And then you hit her with the keys of your krib you actin' funny
Come home one day find her countin' out your money
From the Wetlands all the way to the Apollo
If you broke she's spittin'
If you're rich she might swallow
For the ends
[CHORUS]
I knew these two homeboys
That made a lot of noise
Makin' money on the block
The kids was on their jock
They was tougher than leather
Like Reverend Run
DMC they was tokin' guns
Hold and wait
Goin' out of state
Stackin' mad chips
And pushin' phat wears
Fly jewels and clothes
And got no job
And then one disappeared
And one got robbed
For the ends
[CHORUS x2]
Writer: LAWRENCE SMITH, KEVIN GILLIAM, WILLIAM CALHOUN, BRYAN ROSS, DENNIS COOPER, ALAN R. SAUNDERS, DYRON WADE, JALIL HUTCHINS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
What It's Like
We've all seen a man at the liquor store beggin' for your change
The hair on his face is dirty, dread-locked, and full of mange
He asks a man for what he could spare, with shame in his eyes
"Get a job you f*cking slob," is all he replies
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like
Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom that said he was in love
He said, "Don't worry about a thing, baby doll, I'm the man you've been dreaming of"
Three months later he say he won't date her or return her calls
And she swear, "Goddamn, if I find that man I'm cuttin' off his balls"
And then she heads for the clinic and she gets some static walking through the door
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner and they call her a whore
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like
I've seen a rich man beg
I've seen a good man sin
I've seen a tough man cry
I've seen a loser win
And a sad man grin
I heard an honest man lie (uh)
I've seen the good side of bad
And the downside of up
And everything between
I licked the silver spoon
Drank from the golden cup and smoked the finest green
Stroked the fattest dimes at least a couple of times
Before I broke their heart
You know where it ends, yo, it usually depends on where you start
(I knew) this kid named Max
Who used to get fat stacks out on the corner with drugs
He liked to hang out late
He liked to get shit-faced and keep the pace with thugs
Until late one night, there was a big gunfight and Max lost his head
He pulled out his chrome .45, talked some shit, and wound up dead
Now his wife and his kids are caught in the midst of all of this pain
You know it comes that way, at least that's what they say when you play the game
God forbid you ever had to wake up to hear the news
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to lose
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
To have to lose
The hair on his face is dirty, dread-locked, and full of mange
He asks a man for what he could spare, with shame in his eyes
"Get a job you f*cking slob," is all he replies
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like
Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom that said he was in love
He said, "Don't worry about a thing, baby doll, I'm the man you've been dreaming of"
Three months later he say he won't date her or return her calls
And she swear, "Goddamn, if I find that man I'm cuttin' off his balls"
And then she heads for the clinic and she gets some static walking through the door
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner and they call her a whore
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like
I've seen a rich man beg
I've seen a good man sin
I've seen a tough man cry
I've seen a loser win
And a sad man grin
I heard an honest man lie (uh)
I've seen the good side of bad
And the downside of up
And everything between
I licked the silver spoon
Drank from the golden cup and smoked the finest green
Stroked the fattest dimes at least a couple of times
Before I broke their heart
You know where it ends, yo, it usually depends on where you start
(I knew) this kid named Max
Who used to get fat stacks out on the corner with drugs
He liked to hang out late
He liked to get shit-faced and keep the pace with thugs
Until late one night, there was a big gunfight and Max lost his head
He pulled out his chrome .45, talked some shit, and wound up dead
Now his wife and his kids are caught in the midst of all of this pain
You know it comes that way, at least that's what they say when you play the game
God forbid you ever had to wake up to hear the news
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to lose
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
Then you really might know what it's like (what it's like)
To have to lose
Writer: Erik Schrody
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O CAPASSO, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O CAPASSO, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Get Down
Get down, get down, get down [x4]
I see everybody rockin' the same old style
And everyone's sportin' the same profile
And all of y'all wearin' the same name brands
I hear everybody jackin' these played out jams
I won't reach for no gun, punk, I use my hands
I rock mikes and roll bikes
I cross foreign landsI made my bones out in zones
Where the twilight be
And every time I touch a micI
t's Fright Night Part Three
For every MC that wanna test and try
In your custom made wears
Thinkin' you too fly
Makin' up in gold chains
What you're lackin' for brains
It's time to call your ma, Duke
Scoop up your remains
And finally lay to rest all the shit you stressed
Of boastin' and braggin' about the toes you taggin'
I'm knock knock knockin' on heaven's door
While every rapper that you simmed
Is pimped like a whore
You see your talk is eighteen
Three quarters past four
When your doctor slaps my assH
ear the lion roar
The record sales soared
And the world got toured
You say what happened to my band
I say I just got bored
Now they call me Whitey Ford
And I say praise the Lord
Find me breakin' up your crews
Catch me singin' the blues
Strummin' and pickin' like I'm BB King
It's Abdul Rakim
Now watch me do my thing
[CHORUS]
Down down, you go
Down down, so low
Down down, till you hit the floor
Keep fallin' down, till you can't get down no more
You go point blank range
With the scope he's knockin'
The Psycho might change
But there ain't no stoppin'
The moon's on the rise
When the sun start droppin'
And y'all need to quit the bullshit you poppin'
'Cause I've been hip hoppin' since BDP
Rock the P it's free
It's Abdul Rakim
And when referring to me
You best respect the name
Make a quick double take
And double check your game
'Cause you about to get dissed
I'm checkin' my list
When I check it over twice
It's like rollin' the dice
I hit four-five-six I'm all up in your mix
I rock good from Hollywood
To the City of Bricks
And all these fake cats scream they're keepin' it real
While you're makin' your deal
We'll be breakin' the seal
You be breakin' your vows
Like people worshippin' cows
And then I hit ya with the who's, what's, where's and how's
Like Vinny Barbarino
Matt Gachino
I'm with my man Rino
With the Brooklyn Lordz
Crashin' the boards with my soul in a hole
I take it back to the future
From the days of old
I'm too cold to hold
Too hot not to burn ya
Don't stick your nose in business that don't concern ya
Might have to trip
And flip like Ike Turner
You too old for schoolin', boy, when I'm gonna learn ya
[CHORUS]
I see everybody rockin' the same old style
And everyone's sportin' the same profile
And all of y'all wearin' the same name brands
I hear everybody jackin' these played out jams
I won't reach for no gun, punk, I use my hands
I rock mikes and roll bikes
I cross foreign landsI made my bones out in zones
Where the twilight be
And every time I touch a micI
t's Fright Night Part Three
For every MC that wanna test and try
In your custom made wears
Thinkin' you too fly
Makin' up in gold chains
What you're lackin' for brains
It's time to call your ma, Duke
Scoop up your remains
And finally lay to rest all the shit you stressed
Of boastin' and braggin' about the toes you taggin'
I'm knock knock knockin' on heaven's door
While every rapper that you simmed
Is pimped like a whore
You see your talk is eighteen
Three quarters past four
When your doctor slaps my assH
ear the lion roar
The record sales soared
And the world got toured
You say what happened to my band
I say I just got bored
Now they call me Whitey Ford
And I say praise the Lord
Find me breakin' up your crews
Catch me singin' the blues
Strummin' and pickin' like I'm BB King
It's Abdul Rakim
Now watch me do my thing
[CHORUS]
Down down, you go
Down down, so low
Down down, till you hit the floor
Keep fallin' down, till you can't get down no more
You go point blank range
With the scope he's knockin'
The Psycho might change
But there ain't no stoppin'
The moon's on the rise
When the sun start droppin'
And y'all need to quit the bullshit you poppin'
'Cause I've been hip hoppin' since BDP
Rock the P it's free
It's Abdul Rakim
And when referring to me
You best respect the name
Make a quick double take
And double check your game
'Cause you about to get dissed
I'm checkin' my list
When I check it over twice
It's like rollin' the dice
I hit four-five-six I'm all up in your mix
I rock good from Hollywood
To the City of Bricks
And all these fake cats scream they're keepin' it real
While you're makin' your deal
We'll be breakin' the seal
You be breakin' your vows
Like people worshippin' cows
And then I hit ya with the who's, what's, where's and how's
Like Vinny Barbarino
Matt Gachino
I'm with my man Rino
With the Brooklyn Lordz
Crashin' the boards with my soul in a hole
I take it back to the future
From the days of old
I'm too cold to hold
Too hot not to burn ya
Don't stick your nose in business that don't concern ya
Might have to trip
And flip like Ike Turner
You too old for schoolin', boy, when I'm gonna learn ya
[CHORUS]
Writer: DAVID PRYOR, ERIK SCHRODY, THUNDER LIGHTENING
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., TRENA STEWARD
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., TRENA STEWARD
Sen Dog
Yo Everlast, what's up?
It's Sen Dog.
How you doin' kid?
Check this, I heard you're doin' some shit with some live instruments
and all that.
Word, I'm doin' the same thing, hey yo, check this out...
You still rhymin' or what?
You need to get at me dog, peace out...
It's Sen Dog.
How you doin' kid?
Check this, I heard you're doin' some shit with some live instruments
and all that.
Word, I'm doin' the same thing, hey yo, check this out...
You still rhymin' or what?
You need to get at me dog, peace out...
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Tired
We can go
Soul for soul
Over mic control
Kid you can't touch me with a ten foot pole
And I even made the devil sell me his jewels
He was out to cold mock me
And play you for fools
Kid, you know the rules
Must be smokin' super cools
Try to diss me on the low
Got to be a psycho
That's aight though
You know you won't see me shakin'
I'm out to blow the spot
On who's real and who's fakin'
Who's given'
Who's taken'
Who's livin'
Who's starvin'
Diss me on the mic
It's time for headstone carvin'
And then tap right ya, I'll strike ya like lightin'
Dissolve ya like powder
So turn it up louder
Go on pump the wattage
Get the cheese by cottage
I like mean streaks
I like Spanish freaks
I like Korean barbecue
I'm like old school beats'
Cause...
[CHORUS]
I'm sick of all the shit that's droppin'
And I'm tired of all the lip that's poppin'
And all the wack attitudes people coppin'
I'm only tryin' to get a few heads boppin' [x2]
It go bang bang boogie
I'm sick like a loogie
I'm wiser than bud
I'm thicker than blood
I'm older than time
I'm only from divine
How can you be so bold and think that you'll take mine
I'm cash like Johnny
It's the highway man
And I'm walkin' this line the best way I can
With my farmer's tan
And my bloodshot eyes
I ain't bodied no one
I ain't chopped no bod
With the butter's from the gutters
I'm about to explode
And blow the spot for folk nave
Up the Gun Hill Road
Like artillery shells
Been from heaven to hell
And I'm a say a little prayer for every rapper that fell
'Cause...
[CHORUS x2]
Soul for soul
Over mic control
Kid you can't touch me with a ten foot pole
And I even made the devil sell me his jewels
He was out to cold mock me
And play you for fools
Kid, you know the rules
Must be smokin' super cools
Try to diss me on the low
Got to be a psycho
That's aight though
You know you won't see me shakin'
I'm out to blow the spot
On who's real and who's fakin'
Who's given'
Who's taken'
Who's livin'
Who's starvin'
Diss me on the mic
It's time for headstone carvin'
And then tap right ya, I'll strike ya like lightin'
Dissolve ya like powder
So turn it up louder
Go on pump the wattage
Get the cheese by cottage
I like mean streaks
I like Spanish freaks
I like Korean barbecue
I'm like old school beats'
Cause...
[CHORUS]
I'm sick of all the shit that's droppin'
And I'm tired of all the lip that's poppin'
And all the wack attitudes people coppin'
I'm only tryin' to get a few heads boppin' [x2]
It go bang bang boogie
I'm sick like a loogie
I'm wiser than bud
I'm thicker than blood
I'm older than time
I'm only from divine
How can you be so bold and think that you'll take mine
I'm cash like Johnny
It's the highway man
And I'm walkin' this line the best way I can
With my farmer's tan
And my bloodshot eyes
I ain't bodied no one
I ain't chopped no bod
With the butter's from the gutters
I'm about to explode
And blow the spot for folk nave
Up the Gun Hill Road
Like artillery shells
Been from heaven to hell
And I'm a say a little prayer for every rapper that fell
'Cause...
[CHORUS x2]
Writer: DANTE ROSS, ERIC SCHRODY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Hot To Death
We're gonna be breakin' it down (Yeah!)
You gotta know the feel
You gotta know the life
You know what I'm sayin' (Hey!)
I said what's goin' wrong
You know it just ain't right
Tell me who be loud
When the spark ignite
Now from the break daylight
To the fall of the sun
You gotta pick your fight
It's time to choose your gun
[CHORUS]
Front to back
Right to left
Keep it live all night
Make it hot to death
Get your heart pumpin' like some crystal meth
Keep it live all night
Make it hot to death
Well...Hey...Tell me who's your God
Does he make a lotta dough
I'm gonna take you higher
Or to the fire below
[CHORUS]
Guns to roses
Abraham to Moses
Daylight exposes what the night conceals
Let's break these seals
And get this thing started
Some be out classed
Some be out smarted
Some be over bound by the blindin' rays
I hear the whisper in the night
Get trapped in the maze
See back in the days
When I was juvenile
I dreamed of rockin' on the mic
In a brand new style
Now I'm shakin' these bones
Tryin' to get these shoes
Outbidded major crews
I'm paid crazy dues
Now I'm speakin' on you
They just slept on me
And rumors start spreadin'
Just like a disease
I'll have you down on your knees
Below the spot ground zero
Turn brown and burn down Rome just like Nero
A hero ain't nothing but a
Don't make me say it again
Legend
Don't make me say it
[CHORUS]
That's what I'm sayin'
That's what I'm sayin'...
You gotta know the feel
You gotta know the life
You know what I'm sayin' (Hey!)
I said what's goin' wrong
You know it just ain't right
Tell me who be loud
When the spark ignite
Now from the break daylight
To the fall of the sun
You gotta pick your fight
It's time to choose your gun
[CHORUS]
Front to back
Right to left
Keep it live all night
Make it hot to death
Get your heart pumpin' like some crystal meth
Keep it live all night
Make it hot to death
Well...Hey...Tell me who's your God
Does he make a lotta dough
I'm gonna take you higher
Or to the fire below
[CHORUS]
Guns to roses
Abraham to Moses
Daylight exposes what the night conceals
Let's break these seals
And get this thing started
Some be out classed
Some be out smarted
Some be over bound by the blindin' rays
I hear the whisper in the night
Get trapped in the maze
See back in the days
When I was juvenile
I dreamed of rockin' on the mic
In a brand new style
Now I'm shakin' these bones
Tryin' to get these shoes
Outbidded major crews
I'm paid crazy dues
Now I'm speakin' on you
They just slept on me
And rumors start spreadin'
Just like a disease
I'll have you down on your knees
Below the spot ground zero
Turn brown and burn down Rome just like Nero
A hero ain't nothing but a
Don't make me say it again
Legend
Don't make me say it
[CHORUS]
That's what I'm sayin'
That's what I'm sayin'...
Writer: ERIK SCHRODY, MARK RICHARDSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Painkillers
[Flight Attendant:] On behalf of Pan Am Airlines, we'd like to be the first
to welcome you to New York City. We'd like to thank you for flying Pan Am.
The local time is 6:45 AM and the temperature is 89°...
I've been up all night
On the redeye flight
The dawn's early light
Got the skyline bright
I'm in the back of a car service
My driver's kind of nervous
'Cause I'm tokin' on a blunt that's fat
You say you know where you at
I say I know where I am
And if you really want a tip
Then Mr. don't get flam
I ain't tryin' to be rude
And I ain't stressin' you gramps
But this shit right here
It be the breakfast of champs
I've been tokin' on this since thirteen years old
And when I look up at my wall I see platinum and gold
And there ain't nobody sneezin' at the money I fold
And I ain't here for your pleasin'
So put that shit on hold
Just keep your mouth shut and get me to the hotel
And turn the radio up while I finish this L...
[Bell Boy:] Welcome back to the Five Seasons Mr. Ford, your usual room
is ready and waiting. Let me take your luggage. If you need anything while
you're staying, just let me know.
[Everlast:] Good lookin' out...That's for you.
I hop out my car
Step into the lobby
Everybody's on the floor (get down)
It's a motherf*ckin' robbery
The shit's in progress
I can feel the stress
I wanna silenty to God how I get in this mess
They tell me to freeze and get down on my knees
Between my jewels and my cash
I'm holdin' thirty five G's
They told me to run it
So I got bold and I front it
And like Slick Rick said
I know I shouldn't have done it
'Cause now they standin' over me
Watchin' me bleed
Damn, I got to quit smokin' all this weed
There's a pain in my chest
But yo, I must be blessed
Because before I faded out I saw the EMS
The paramedics
They greet me with some anesthetics
They killin' my pain
They screamin' my name
Tryin' to keep me in the conscious world
I'm thinkin' about my mom
My sister and my girl
I'm prayin' to God
Don't let this go too far
As they rush me into the St. Luke's O.R.
They pull the bullets out my chest
And give 'em back in a jar
Now I'm wearin' this scar
'Cause I tried to play hard
[Doctor:] Mr. Ford, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you.
[Everlast:] What are you talkin' about?
[Doctor:] It would appear that one of the bullets grazed your spine and damaged the cord.
[Everlast:] So what are you tryin' to tell me?
[Doctor:] Well, it's safe to say I don't think you'll be jumpin' around anymore.
Yo, this can't happen to me
I just can't believe it
Trapped in a wheelchair
A paraplegic
There ain't no rehab
There ain't no therapy
For the rest of my life
Somebody's gotta take care of me
And people stare at me
With pity in their eyes
And every mornin' I rise to a life of despise
And ever night I think I might never rock the mic again
'Cause my brain's f*cked up on percacet and vicadin
Might as well be heroin pulsin' through my veins
Gotta kill these pains
Or blow out my brains
To free me from these chains
I'm trapped in this physical hell
To walk again I just might sell my soul
And I'm only twenty somethin' years old (years old)
to welcome you to New York City. We'd like to thank you for flying Pan Am.
The local time is 6:45 AM and the temperature is 89°...
I've been up all night
On the redeye flight
The dawn's early light
Got the skyline bright
I'm in the back of a car service
My driver's kind of nervous
'Cause I'm tokin' on a blunt that's fat
You say you know where you at
I say I know where I am
And if you really want a tip
Then Mr. don't get flam
I ain't tryin' to be rude
And I ain't stressin' you gramps
But this shit right here
It be the breakfast of champs
I've been tokin' on this since thirteen years old
And when I look up at my wall I see platinum and gold
And there ain't nobody sneezin' at the money I fold
And I ain't here for your pleasin'
So put that shit on hold
Just keep your mouth shut and get me to the hotel
And turn the radio up while I finish this L...
[Bell Boy:] Welcome back to the Five Seasons Mr. Ford, your usual room
is ready and waiting. Let me take your luggage. If you need anything while
you're staying, just let me know.
[Everlast:] Good lookin' out...That's for you.
I hop out my car
Step into the lobby
Everybody's on the floor (get down)
It's a motherf*ckin' robbery
The shit's in progress
I can feel the stress
I wanna silenty to God how I get in this mess
They tell me to freeze and get down on my knees
Between my jewels and my cash
I'm holdin' thirty five G's
They told me to run it
So I got bold and I front it
And like Slick Rick said
I know I shouldn't have done it
'Cause now they standin' over me
Watchin' me bleed
Damn, I got to quit smokin' all this weed
There's a pain in my chest
But yo, I must be blessed
Because before I faded out I saw the EMS
The paramedics
They greet me with some anesthetics
They killin' my pain
They screamin' my name
Tryin' to keep me in the conscious world
I'm thinkin' about my mom
My sister and my girl
I'm prayin' to God
Don't let this go too far
As they rush me into the St. Luke's O.R.
They pull the bullets out my chest
And give 'em back in a jar
Now I'm wearin' this scar
'Cause I tried to play hard
[Doctor:] Mr. Ford, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you.
[Everlast:] What are you talkin' about?
[Doctor:] It would appear that one of the bullets grazed your spine and damaged the cord.
[Everlast:] So what are you tryin' to tell me?
[Doctor:] Well, it's safe to say I don't think you'll be jumpin' around anymore.
Yo, this can't happen to me
I just can't believe it
Trapped in a wheelchair
A paraplegic
There ain't no rehab
There ain't no therapy
For the rest of my life
Somebody's gotta take care of me
And people stare at me
With pity in their eyes
And every mornin' I rise to a life of despise
And ever night I think I might never rock the mic again
'Cause my brain's f*cked up on percacet and vicadin
Might as well be heroin pulsin' through my veins
Gotta kill these pains
Or blow out my brains
To free me from these chains
I'm trapped in this physical hell
To walk again I just might sell my soul
And I'm only twenty somethin' years old (years old)
Writer: ERIK SCHRODY, SEBASTIAN BARDIN-GREENBERG
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., LA VIBE MUSIC
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., LA VIBE MUSIC
Prince Paul
Hey yo, what up Everlast?
This is Prince Paul, man.
Yo, I ran into Trev on the street from Nasty and he said you're doing
this dope Celtic rock album.
So I was like, "yo, that's my style...
That's what I do".
You know I got beats from back in the days.
So I'm like, yo, why don't I give you a call 'cause yo,
'cause you know I got that ill like, you know...
You know somethin' like "Jump Around" but it's
more on that like old lucky charm style type, you know.
In other words yo, just yo, give a brotha some work.
You know what I mean?
It's like I got beats man...
Dante got some beats, but I got beats!
Because yo, I've been doin' it for awhile.
So yo, I got the joint. Call me...
You got my number, I got it.
I know what you need...
I know what you need, man.
I know you got dough.
Give me a buzz, peace.
This is Prince Paul, man.
Yo, I ran into Trev on the street from Nasty and he said you're doing
this dope Celtic rock album.
So I was like, "yo, that's my style...
That's what I do".
You know I got beats from back in the days.
So I'm like, yo, why don't I give you a call 'cause yo,
'cause you know I got that ill like, you know...
You know somethin' like "Jump Around" but it's
more on that like old lucky charm style type, you know.
In other words yo, just yo, give a brotha some work.
You know what I mean?
It's like I got beats man...
Dante got some beats, but I got beats!
Because yo, I've been doin' it for awhile.
So yo, I got the joint. Call me...
You got my number, I got it.
I know what you need...
I know what you need, man.
I know you got dough.
Give me a buzz, peace.
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Praise The Lord
(It's Whitey. . . and the Likwit) repeats several times
Watch me rock these sounds from the Polo Grounds
To the Sunset Strip, I'm like an acid trip
I'm flashing back on ya, run it up on ya
Born in Hempstead L.I., raised in California
Mister entrepreneur, I rock the shot that's sure
I need a dime plus more, I sip the finely corked
I want the cash in hand, and the beats front land
And I get loco from Acapulco to Japan
Mister Whitey Ford gets terrain explored
You perpetrate that Ford, you must be out your gourd
It's time make like break nights kid, and praise the lord
Keep the faith, smoke your eighth
Continue stackin' papers all up in my safe
Commence to motivate, assume an altered state
And kill your whole wack show like I'm Edgar Alan Poe
It's the psychotic thriller, no peckerwood's iller
Than this freckled face man with the farmer's tan
If I can't bomb on you, I'm bombin' on your man
Chorus:
Some get the shit, sugar, some get the stains
Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains
Some get the powers, love, some get the papers
Some catch the vibes and some catch the vapors
Better . . . [Praise the Lord . . . Keep, keep the faith (4x)]
I say roll to the rock, rock to the roll
Whitey Ford brings the devastating mic control
Like Darrell McDaniel, a hundred g's annual
The tips get clocked baby, the bonds get stocked
My style gets rocked just like doors get knocked
With legendary status like my name's Lou Brock
And my lanzar sounds be shaking the grounds
Hunting down crews, like packs of bloodhounds
Snatching off crowns and melting 'em down
I once was lost, see but now I'm found
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
And when the saints come marchin' in . .
(Keep the faith)
I messed the alpine white, classic rapper's delight
All these shorties pullin' tools, cause they know they can't fight
I bang my selections on worldwide connections
So get the seven digits baby, never burn your bridges
Chorus 2x
Watch me rock these sounds from the Polo Grounds
To the Sunset Strip, I'm like an acid trip
I'm flashing back on ya, run it up on ya
Born in Hempstead L.I., raised in California
Mister entrepreneur, I rock the shot that's sure
I need a dime plus more, I sip the finely corked
I want the cash in hand, and the beats front land
And I get loco from Acapulco to Japan
Mister Whitey Ford gets terrain explored
You perpetrate that Ford, you must be out your gourd
It's time make like break nights kid, and praise the lord
Keep the faith, smoke your eighth
Continue stackin' papers all up in my safe
Commence to motivate, assume an altered state
And kill your whole wack show like I'm Edgar Alan Poe
It's the psychotic thriller, no peckerwood's iller
Than this freckled face man with the farmer's tan
If I can't bomb on you, I'm bombin' on your man
Chorus:
Some get the shit, sugar, some get the stains
Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains
Some get the powers, love, some get the papers
Some catch the vibes and some catch the vapors
Better . . . [Praise the Lord . . . Keep, keep the faith (4x)]
I say roll to the rock, rock to the roll
Whitey Ford brings the devastating mic control
Like Darrell McDaniel, a hundred g's annual
The tips get clocked baby, the bonds get stocked
My style gets rocked just like doors get knocked
With legendary status like my name's Lou Brock
And my lanzar sounds be shaking the grounds
Hunting down crews, like packs of bloodhounds
Snatching off crowns and melting 'em down
I once was lost, see but now I'm found
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
And when the saints come marchin' in . .
(Keep the faith)
I messed the alpine white, classic rapper's delight
All these shorties pullin' tools, cause they know they can't fight
I bang my selections on worldwide connections
So get the seven digits baby, never burn your bridges
Chorus 2x
Writer: E. SHROADY, C. MARTIN, KEITH ELAM, E. BROOKS, GREG MAYS, DARRYL BARNES, Chris Martin, Eric Brooks, ERIK SCHRODY
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Today (Watch Me Shine)
[ Featuring Bronx Style Bob ]
Yesterday, just a dream I don't remember
Tomorrow, still I hope I get to ending
I'm out of time, I'm out of rhyme, I'm out of reason
Seasons change and leave me out in the cold
Story's old, tale's been told by many scholar
Got fist full of dollars, and a pocket full of love
God above, if you hear me crying
Tried to sell my soul but no one's buying
Lord, strike me down now, if I'm lying
It's getting cold, it's time for dying
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
Today, come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
Today, watch me shine
Let man who's free from sin
Cast the first stone and begin the violence
Let man whose words ring true
Speak on up till his voice breaks through the silence
Let the one's who lose their way
Live to see just one more day in the sunshine
Let the one's who chose to stray
Recognize the price they'll pay in their lifetime
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
Today, come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
Today, watch me shine
Sitting here, waiting for my roads to cross
You nailed me down and you watched me bleed
So lay my head against the earth
Plant my body like a seed
You can't always get the things you want, love
Get what you deserve and maybe what you need
So fill my hole with precious dirt, love
Turn the soil and plot the weed
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
Today, come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
Today, watch me shine
Writer: ERIK SCHRODY
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Guru
Hey, yo yo Everlast.
What up?
This is big Guru from the Gangstarr, you know what I'm sayin'?
Just checkin' in on ya.
Yo, I heard about your accident, I want
to know if you're still breathin'?
So get at it brother, you know
how to reach me, kid.
Word is bond, man. I miss ya.
Hit me up, peace.
What up?
This is big Guru from the Gangstarr, you know what I'm sayin'?
Just checkin' in on ya.
Yo, I heard about your accident, I want
to know if you're still breathin'?
So get at it brother, you know
how to reach me, kid.
Word is bond, man. I miss ya.
Hit me up, peace.
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Death Comes Callin
A yes yes y'all
It's too fresh y'all
A little b-boy blue
You know it's too beucou
I've been from New York to Cali
Spent two days in the valley
And I think I'm 'bout to lose my mind
And if I think 'bout it one more time
I'm a blow my stack
See ya out the back
Give me some room that I can breathe in
Now I'm a start weavin' spells like a wizard
King of the lizard
My mojo's risin' like my nature should
Not everybody can relate to hood
But I used to roll with high frequency
Had a habit of juvenile delinquency
If y'all could see all the things I did
When I was a kid
Ya might flip ya lid
'Cause, when I was the age of one
My father gave me my very first gun
When I was the age of two
I was pullin' out records with the SD Crew
And when I was the age of three
I had all the maddest fishes swimmin' after me
And when I was the age of four
I was bustin' out shows with the rhymes galore
[x2]
I say day to the night
Night to the day
Up around where I stay
We do things this way
You got to watch how you act
And watch what you say
'Cause their ain't no stallin'
When the death come callin'
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
Yo, all you duns packin' guns
Fightin' for ones
It's time to get these hons
Start raisin' some sons
Plant your seed in some fertile soil
And watch me start bubblin'
Like I'm 'bout to boil
Like Olive Oyle love Popeye
Just won't stoppa
I got to keep rockin'
Ticks keep tockin'
Time keeps slippin'
My mind keeps trippin'
I'm in the road less traveled
Sure got lotta stones
[x2]
Watch me break it down
There's a red house yonder
Just over the hill
With my name carved into the window sill
I think I'm gonna burn it down
Yeah, I think I'm gonna burn it down
That's what me and my old woman used to say
We used to lie in bed and make love all day
Now I think I'm gonna burn it down
Yeah, I think I'm gonna burn it down
Yeah, I think I'm gonna burn it down to the ground
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
It's too fresh y'all
A little b-boy blue
You know it's too beucou
I've been from New York to Cali
Spent two days in the valley
And I think I'm 'bout to lose my mind
And if I think 'bout it one more time
I'm a blow my stack
See ya out the back
Give me some room that I can breathe in
Now I'm a start weavin' spells like a wizard
King of the lizard
My mojo's risin' like my nature should
Not everybody can relate to hood
But I used to roll with high frequency
Had a habit of juvenile delinquency
If y'all could see all the things I did
When I was a kid
Ya might flip ya lid
'Cause, when I was the age of one
My father gave me my very first gun
When I was the age of two
I was pullin' out records with the SD Crew
And when I was the age of three
I had all the maddest fishes swimmin' after me
And when I was the age of four
I was bustin' out shows with the rhymes galore
[x2]
I say day to the night
Night to the day
Up around where I stay
We do things this way
You got to watch how you act
And watch what you say
'Cause their ain't no stallin'
When the death come callin'
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
Yo, all you duns packin' guns
Fightin' for ones
It's time to get these hons
Start raisin' some sons
Plant your seed in some fertile soil
And watch me start bubblin'
Like I'm 'bout to boil
Like Olive Oyle love Popeye
Just won't stoppa
I got to keep rockin'
Ticks keep tockin'
Time keeps slippin'
My mind keeps trippin'
I'm in the road less traveled
Sure got lotta stones
[x2]
Watch me break it down
There's a red house yonder
Just over the hill
With my name carved into the window sill
I think I'm gonna burn it down
Yeah, I think I'm gonna burn it down
That's what me and my old woman used to say
We used to lie in bed and make love all day
Now I think I'm gonna burn it down
Yeah, I think I'm gonna burn it down
Yeah, I think I'm gonna burn it down to the ground
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
The man that lives by the pistol
Dies by the smokin' gun (gun)
I think I hear a steam whistle
Lord, when my train gonna come
Writer: CORNWELL, CURTIS, ROSS, SCHRODY
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Funky Beat
Check
Uh huh
Check check, y'all
Yo Whitey Ford's the name
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Couldn't get more bent
When it's time to represent
I control it like rent
In a slum tenement
Life's hard like some men
In the concrete jungle
I don't smoke jumbo
So whatcha knockin' for
There's locks on my door
We rock from the floor
To the ceilin'
Ain't no drug dealin'
Ain't no gat peelin'
You can't fight this feelin'
[Casual:]
Weeeell, My style's golden
Hot like molten rock
Niggers come bold
But leave here holdin' jock
High roll patrol
Roll through the set on fifth
Arm's solo
Sippin' momo with a chick
Niggers take the penitentiary
Chances at the dances
Lettin' off shots
Lit off the lanterns
Mad 'cause a nigga can't test with no access
To phatness like this
[Sadat X:]
From one story the cowboy was founded
I'm surrounded by Casual and Whitey Ford
The whole world and your girl
From the Bay to LA
To my blue end while
I ain't tryin' to die
I'm tryin' to live
While I cool out
And pick up my daughter
When the bell says the school out
Who the hell brought tools
In this peaceful event
Now I can love you
Front you
Or we could hunt you
You played too close
Take a hit of this dose
A yes, yes, y'all
[Sadat X:] A freak, freak, yo
[Casual:] So fresh y'all
To the beat y'all
[Sadat X:] A yes yes y'all
[Casual:] We don't stop dog
We keep it rockin' till the panties drop, yo
[Casual:]
Uh huh, ha
I see the rappers bein' ruined
By you and whoever's doin' that
Crap, they got me booin'
In fact, I'm gettin' to 'em
May an electrical poetical surge
Give me the urge
To, consume, the tomb
And submerge
The depths of adverbs
Keep it sickAnalytical
You pitiful trick
I'm the pinnacle and the prodigal
Rhyme style's
Hip nautical
F*ck the artical
The artist is hardest
To harvest the hard shit
[Sadat X:]
I slave till all my work is done
I'm cashin' in
Stack up my money for a grand set
I like them all house parties rockin'
Plus I'm up in your cozy
Bitch turn your head and keep your eyes
Where they supposed to be
Supposedly I was seen with something lean, huh
Brown skin
I keep it bouncin'
I say loungin'
On the side with red wine
I know that shit on my floor ain't swine
Now back it up
Stack it up
And hit me one more time
It might be your phone call
But check it, it's my dime
And I know she's fine
But get off my line
Or I'll break that spine
And then maybe your face
You all up in my space
Like with Puffy and Mase
But that's just not the case'
Cause I'm settin' the pace
While you followin' and swallowin'
Savorin' the flavor
In your audio for now
Quick suckin' my style
I'll be the man
With the large amounts of savoir-faire
[CHORUS]
Rock on
To the break of dawn
Just freak it
Ah yeah baby
Rock on
To the break of dawn
Just freak it
Ah yeah baby
[CHORUS II x2]
[Sadat X:]
'Cause it's the funky beat'
Cause it's the funky beat
'Cause it's the funk, the funk, the funk, funky beat (beat)
[Sadat X:]
I'll leave a piece of my style
Flyin' high up in the air
And you'll say to yourself
Damn I'm glad I was there
This is as rare as me frickin' share
You people stare
But behind closed doors
You will take it there
[Casual:] Yeah I be the extraordinare
Judge from Bayfare
To Albee Square
Tell me where the party at
I'll be there
Let her hit the coney at
Show her where to rock the pony at
I be the man
With the large amounts of sapphire fare
I'm about to cut loose
My dog so you all best beware
You can dance with flare
And get out of your chair
We be smarter than your average boo boo bear
[CHORUS]
[CHORUS II x4]
Uh huh
Check check, y'all
Yo Whitey Ford's the name
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Couldn't get more bent
When it's time to represent
I control it like rent
In a slum tenement
Life's hard like some men
In the concrete jungle
I don't smoke jumbo
So whatcha knockin' for
There's locks on my door
We rock from the floor
To the ceilin'
Ain't no drug dealin'
Ain't no gat peelin'
You can't fight this feelin'
[Casual:]
Weeeell, My style's golden
Hot like molten rock
Niggers come bold
But leave here holdin' jock
High roll patrol
Roll through the set on fifth
Arm's solo
Sippin' momo with a chick
Niggers take the penitentiary
Chances at the dances
Lettin' off shots
Lit off the lanterns
Mad 'cause a nigga can't test with no access
To phatness like this
[Sadat X:]
From one story the cowboy was founded
I'm surrounded by Casual and Whitey Ford
The whole world and your girl
From the Bay to LA
To my blue end while
I ain't tryin' to die
I'm tryin' to live
While I cool out
And pick up my daughter
When the bell says the school out
Who the hell brought tools
In this peaceful event
Now I can love you
Front you
Or we could hunt you
You played too close
Take a hit of this dose
A yes, yes, y'all
[Sadat X:] A freak, freak, yo
[Casual:] So fresh y'all
To the beat y'all
[Sadat X:] A yes yes y'all
[Casual:] We don't stop dog
We keep it rockin' till the panties drop, yo
[Casual:]
Uh huh, ha
I see the rappers bein' ruined
By you and whoever's doin' that
Crap, they got me booin'
In fact, I'm gettin' to 'em
May an electrical poetical surge
Give me the urge
To, consume, the tomb
And submerge
The depths of adverbs
Keep it sickAnalytical
You pitiful trick
I'm the pinnacle and the prodigal
Rhyme style's
Hip nautical
F*ck the artical
The artist is hardest
To harvest the hard shit
[Sadat X:]
I slave till all my work is done
I'm cashin' in
Stack up my money for a grand set
I like them all house parties rockin'
Plus I'm up in your cozy
Bitch turn your head and keep your eyes
Where they supposed to be
Supposedly I was seen with something lean, huh
Brown skin
I keep it bouncin'
I say loungin'
On the side with red wine
I know that shit on my floor ain't swine
Now back it up
Stack it up
And hit me one more time
It might be your phone call
But check it, it's my dime
And I know she's fine
But get off my line
Or I'll break that spine
And then maybe your face
You all up in my space
Like with Puffy and Mase
But that's just not the case'
Cause I'm settin' the pace
While you followin' and swallowin'
Savorin' the flavor
In your audio for now
Quick suckin' my style
I'll be the man
With the large amounts of savoir-faire
[CHORUS]
Rock on
To the break of dawn
Just freak it
Ah yeah baby
Rock on
To the break of dawn
Just freak it
Ah yeah baby
[CHORUS II x2]
[Sadat X:]
'Cause it's the funky beat'
Cause it's the funky beat
'Cause it's the funk, the funk, the funk, funky beat (beat)
[Sadat X:]
I'll leave a piece of my style
Flyin' high up in the air
And you'll say to yourself
Damn I'm glad I was there
This is as rare as me frickin' share
You people stare
But behind closed doors
You will take it there
[Casual:] Yeah I be the extraordinare
Judge from Bayfare
To Albee Square
Tell me where the party at
I'll be there
Let her hit the coney at
Show her where to rock the pony at
I be the man
With the large amounts of sapphire fare
I'm about to cut loose
My dog so you all best beware
You can dance with flare
And get out of your chair
We be smarter than your average boo boo bear
[CHORUS]
[CHORUS II x4]
Writer: ERIK SCHRODY, SEKOU T BUNCH, AL DIAZ, MALIK HAMID JOHNSON, STEVEN PICCARELLO, DEREK MURPHY, DANTE ROSS, JONATHAN OWENS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
The Letter
Yeah that's her
Sometimes you win
Sometimes you lose
All the broken hearts
And the unpaid dues
What you did to me
What I did to you
I ain't mad at you, boo
So what we gonna do?
I just seen you out with your new man
It's lookin' kind of happy
I'm feelin' like somebody just slapped me
My gut's in a knot
My temp's gettin' hot
I wanna make that man bleed
And wear this speed knot
'Cause he ain't got what we had
And it makes me kind of mad
I hurt my one true love
Just like my dad
And it's kinda sad
'Cause now my shit's together
No need for umbrellas
I can see the stormy weather
I'm goin' outside into the rain
I keep sweatin'
'Cause I can't house this pain
We was workin' for years
Now I'm jerkin' these tears
From my lips to God's ears, girl
I did you wrong
So I'm makin' this song
To let you know how I feel
Before I'm keepin' it real
Man, keepin my heart concealed
And now I'm on the side
Just patiently waitin'
Watchin' on you and the time for updatin'
I can't hide from the truth
I know the puddin's in the proof
So I stand convicted like all your friends predicted
But I'd think you'd be surprised
On how this ends brothers
We went from lovers to friends
We'll go from friends to lovers
So if that man make you smile
I guess that I'll
Just accept it
And respect it
I'll hit you with this song
And let you think about it
Then I'll just leave you alone
And be a man about it
Sometimes you win
Sometimes you lose
All the broken hearts
And the unpaid dues
What you did to me
What I did to you
I ain't mad at you, boo
So what we gonna do?
I just seen you out with your new man
It's lookin' kind of happy
I'm feelin' like somebody just slapped me
My gut's in a knot
My temp's gettin' hot
I wanna make that man bleed
And wear this speed knot
'Cause he ain't got what we had
And it makes me kind of mad
I hurt my one true love
Just like my dad
And it's kinda sad
'Cause now my shit's together
No need for umbrellas
I can see the stormy weather
I'm goin' outside into the rain
I keep sweatin'
'Cause I can't house this pain
We was workin' for years
Now I'm jerkin' these tears
From my lips to God's ears, girl
I did you wrong
So I'm makin' this song
To let you know how I feel
Before I'm keepin' it real
Man, keepin my heart concealed
And now I'm on the side
Just patiently waitin'
Watchin' on you and the time for updatin'
I can't hide from the truth
I know the puddin's in the proof
So I stand convicted like all your friends predicted
But I'd think you'd be surprised
On how this ends brothers
We went from lovers to friends
We'll go from friends to lovers
So if that man make you smile
I guess that I'll
Just accept it
And respect it
I'll hit you with this song
And let you think about it
Then I'll just leave you alone
And be a man about it
Writer: DAVID SNEDDON, RICHARD ALEXANDER ROSS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
7 Years
It's been seven years down the road
I got no more tears that are left to flow
When I did my baby wrong
She left me lonely for so long
Now I'm out here all alone
Lord, won't you please bring my baby home
[CHORUS x2]
Lord, won't you please...bring my baby home
Lord won't you please bring my baby home
It go one for the treble
Two for the bass
Used to mess with this girl
Way back in the day
She was from the PJ's
And she went both ways
Yeah, the girl was a freak
I used to call her Monique
And before I even speak
About knockin' the boots
I say her name been changed to avoid lawsuits
So now we gettin' down to the nitty of the gritty
She brought her friend around
And damn she was pretty
Betty was twisted
She said her number was listed
They grabbed my love two fisted
Hugged it and kissed it
They say one in the hand
Is worth two in the bush
But when shove came to push
Yo, I had my own theories
World Series of love
It's two on one
Till I got caught with the smokin' gun
His wife came home
And she bursted in
Now I'm lookin' for my heart
Like I'm made from tin
The road that I travel
Ain't got yellow bricks
My old woman jinxed
That all men are pricks
And she flipped the script
She's puttin' lip to lip
And every time I think about it I just lose my grip
'Cause I've been up
And I've been down
And I've been fast
And I've been slow
And I've been square
And I've been round
And I've been high
And I've been low
And I've been cool
And I've been calm
And I've been kind
And I've been crass
I held the whole world right in my palm
I tried to spread it around
But it sure went fast
[CHORUS]
Seven years sure have flown by
I got no more tears and they are left to cry
When I did my sugar bad
I lost the best thing I ever had
And now I'm out here on my own
Lord, won't you please bring my baby home
[CHORUS x2]
Bring my baby home...
I got no more tears that are left to flow
When I did my baby wrong
She left me lonely for so long
Now I'm out here all alone
Lord, won't you please bring my baby home
[CHORUS x2]
Lord, won't you please...bring my baby home
Lord won't you please bring my baby home
It go one for the treble
Two for the bass
Used to mess with this girl
Way back in the day
She was from the PJ's
And she went both ways
Yeah, the girl was a freak
I used to call her Monique
And before I even speak
About knockin' the boots
I say her name been changed to avoid lawsuits
So now we gettin' down to the nitty of the gritty
She brought her friend around
And damn she was pretty
Betty was twisted
She said her number was listed
They grabbed my love two fisted
Hugged it and kissed it
They say one in the hand
Is worth two in the bush
But when shove came to push
Yo, I had my own theories
World Series of love
It's two on one
Till I got caught with the smokin' gun
His wife came home
And she bursted in
Now I'm lookin' for my heart
Like I'm made from tin
The road that I travel
Ain't got yellow bricks
My old woman jinxed
That all men are pricks
And she flipped the script
She's puttin' lip to lip
And every time I think about it I just lose my grip
'Cause I've been up
And I've been down
And I've been fast
And I've been slow
And I've been square
And I've been round
And I've been high
And I've been low
And I've been cool
And I've been calm
And I've been kind
And I've been crass
I held the whole world right in my palm
I tried to spread it around
But it sure went fast
[CHORUS]
Seven years sure have flown by
I got no more tears and they are left to cry
When I did my sugar bad
I lost the best thing I ever had
And now I'm out here on my own
Lord, won't you please bring my baby home
[CHORUS x2]
Bring my baby home...
Writer: DANTE ROSS, ERIC SCHRODY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Next Man
Haha
'And there, but for the grace of God, go I'
It's kinda neat
I wonder what it means
I rock a jam for love
I quit my band for love
I'll smack the chrome tool right out your hand for love
Make you cry like a dove
Leave you standin' alone
In a world so cold
Watch the drama unfold
'Cause you sell your soul
Now you're fearin' your death
Sniffin' crystal meth 'till there ain't none left
But, rock bottom hurts when you hit it
You start to reflect on all the friends you shitted
You probably won't admit it
So you start to sink lower
You're caught in the flood
And you're tryin' to find Noah
If you hungry and your near me yo, you gonna get fed
If you sleepy and you need a place to lay your head
Then come take my bed
I'll sleep on the floor
'Cause these are the times that friends are for
[CHORUS x2]
I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'till you the next man
I get uptight for love
You know I'll fight for love
I might keep my wifey up all night for love
And when the daylight comes
I be seein' mad bums
With no shoes on their feet
Plus nothin' to eat
I can't save the whole street
So I feel like I'm beat
And why play the game when nothin' goin' to change
The only change that's wanted is loose in my jeans
I get rushed on every corner by a bum or a fiend
Tryin' to keep my dean
I try to give to the poor
Tryin' to get through this life
And get through that door
I'm all up in this mix
For these final tics
Goin' all the way to seven
And it's half past six
[CHORUS x2]
I pray to God for love
I'll make Jihad for love
And I just might pull your freakin' card for love
Make you sing 'Hey Love' like my man King Son
I freak the art noise
Over all you toys
Better bring your boys
Summon all your crew
No matter what you do
It's comin' back on you
Just like a planet orbits
Let your sponge absorb it
It's logical conclusion
It's b-boy fusion
And confusion say that he want control
Of your mentality
Your body and your soul
So if you lose your whole
Come and take my hand
And link up this jam
'Cause money that's the plan
Tryin' to get through this maze
Not to win this race
We either ridin' on our horse
Or walkin' on our face
So come take your place on the side of love
And swallow up your ego and your pride for love
[CHORUS x2]
Can't wait 'till you the next man
Can't wait 'till you the next man...
'And there, but for the grace of God, go I'
It's kinda neat
I wonder what it means
I rock a jam for love
I quit my band for love
I'll smack the chrome tool right out your hand for love
Make you cry like a dove
Leave you standin' alone
In a world so cold
Watch the drama unfold
'Cause you sell your soul
Now you're fearin' your death
Sniffin' crystal meth 'till there ain't none left
But, rock bottom hurts when you hit it
You start to reflect on all the friends you shitted
You probably won't admit it
So you start to sink lower
You're caught in the flood
And you're tryin' to find Noah
If you hungry and your near me yo, you gonna get fed
If you sleepy and you need a place to lay your head
Then come take my bed
I'll sleep on the floor
'Cause these are the times that friends are for
[CHORUS x2]
I see everybody out here doin' for self
And they don't give a damn on the next man
Puttin' status and wealth over God and health
I can't wait 'till you the next man
I get uptight for love
You know I'll fight for love
I might keep my wifey up all night for love
And when the daylight comes
I be seein' mad bums
With no shoes on their feet
Plus nothin' to eat
I can't save the whole street
So I feel like I'm beat
And why play the game when nothin' goin' to change
The only change that's wanted is loose in my jeans
I get rushed on every corner by a bum or a fiend
Tryin' to keep my dean
I try to give to the poor
Tryin' to get through this life
And get through that door
I'm all up in this mix
For these final tics
Goin' all the way to seven
And it's half past six
[CHORUS x2]
I pray to God for love
I'll make Jihad for love
And I just might pull your freakin' card for love
Make you sing 'Hey Love' like my man King Son
I freak the art noise
Over all you toys
Better bring your boys
Summon all your crew
No matter what you do
It's comin' back on you
Just like a planet orbits
Let your sponge absorb it
It's logical conclusion
It's b-boy fusion
And confusion say that he want control
Of your mentality
Your body and your soul
So if you lose your whole
Come and take my hand
And link up this jam
'Cause money that's the plan
Tryin' to get through this maze
Not to win this race
We either ridin' on our horse
Or walkin' on our face
So come take your place on the side of love
And swallow up your ego and your pride for love
[CHORUS x2]
Can't wait 'till you the next man
Can't wait 'till you the next man...
Writer: ROSS, SCHRODY, TEUPEN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Whitey Ford Sings the Blues is the second solo studio album by American recording artist Everlast, and the first one following his departure from House of Pain. It was released on September 8, 1998, via Tommy Boy Records, a full eight years after his solo debut album Forever Everlasting and after he had a major heart attack. "Whitey Ford" in the album title refers to the New York Yankees pitcher of the same name.
The album was both a commercial and critical success (selling more than three million copies) and went 2× platinum according to RIAA. It peaked at No. 9 on the Billboard 200. Its hit single "What It's Like" became Everlast's most popular and successful song, which garnered him a Grammy Award nomination for Best Male Rock Vocal Performance at the 42nd Annual Grammy Awards.
Whitey Ford Sings the Blues blended rap with acoustic and electric guitars, developed by Everlast together with producers Dante Ross and John Gamble. The album incorporates a mix of musical styles such as blues, rock and hip hop. The South Florida Sun-Sentinel wrote that the album "exudes the folk-rock vibe - if not quite the peerless songwriting - of a Bruce Springsteen or a Steve Earle, augmented by the beats that Everlast perfected in his former band."
Performed By:
EverlastThe album was both a commercial and critical success (selling more than three million copies) and went 2× platinum according to RIAA. It peaked at No. 9 on the Billboard 200. Its hit single "What It's Like" became Everlast's most popular and successful song, which garnered him a Grammy Award nomination for Best Male Rock Vocal Performance at the 42nd Annual Grammy Awards.
Whitey Ford Sings the Blues blended rap with acoustic and electric guitars, developed by Everlast together with producers Dante Ross and John Gamble. The album incorporates a mix of musical styles such as blues, rock and hip hop. The South Florida Sun-Sentinel wrote that the album "exudes the folk-rock vibe - if not quite the peerless songwriting - of a Bruce Springsteen or a Steve Earle, augmented by the beats that Everlast perfected in his former band."
Genre(s): Blues, rock, country rock, hip hop
Length: 55:07
Released: September 8th, 1998
Year: 1998