Search results for 'put your records on by danielle bradbery' Page #6

Cop That Sh*t

Magoo

Under Construction, Pt. II

2003

gun's my security
I'm not afraid nucca do what you gon do to me
I get paid when your record is played
To put it short, heh I got it made
I'm talented,

Here We Go Again

DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince

He's the DJ, I'm the Rapper

1988

first came out, we had a smash hit song
Then people started askin, "What's takin so long
for y'all to put another record out for the airwaves?"
I said,

So put your favorite record on baby
It'll soon become mine too
Cause when we dance there's not a chance I'll be wanting
When I'm with you
Putting

a smash hit song
Then people started askin what's takin so long for y'all to put another record out for the airwaves
I said hold up let me explain when you

I'm Kool Moe Dee

Kool Moe Dee

Kool Moe Dee

1986

the sea
I by the power invested in me
Put words in rhythm, recite em as poem
Put em on records to display em and show em
To an entourage of fiends who are

this bizarre
Rapper style used by me, the B.I.G. (b.i.g.)
I put my key you put your key in, money we'll be seein (c'mon)
Will reach the fuckin ceiling,

she was a freak
Her album flopped, it only did two-thousand the first week (that's it?)
She put a record out dissin' Quavo, bad timin'
Honestly she

over
There by your record label, huh?
You see me up there, real big
Yeah! In a real flamboyant way!
You see the 'Beautiful' single blowin' up!
All in

I leave him beheaded

Put your neck inside the guillotine
Can't wait to see the looks of disbelief
On all the faces of the haters
And people that

$1, 100 in your pocket what made
You move to Los Angeles?
Frank Ocean: I had been
Putting together these
Demos that I was going to properly
Record in

Black missions
Aww baby just listen
Open your ears up again and drive
To poor Black neighborhood that's near by
If you don't see everything a rap record

uninsured you could use your 2nd
Half to pay the doctor bill
I'm hot for real, you a fan Goodz
Most'll toast the metal but the handle
Where I put my hand,

Mark
I had to work for mine to put your body in park
When I was a teenager, I wanted to be down
With a lot of MC-DJ'ing crews in town
Saw this crew

Don't
I'm spiting it up
And I'm spilling my guts
And I put that shit all
On the records I say
And I put that shit out
So you niggas will pay
All them

Don't Mess

Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.

New Funky Nation

1990

with the boys in black when your ass get tapped
By Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., the mafia of rap
Life of last (lane) never been delayed
Commit a crime on stage

your hearing’s mixed with the fates of Nixon, Donner, and Blitzen (and all the Holiday fixings)
Negro champion sounds, that's soul by the pound
Past

I spit for the cabbage, grind with a mission
And put Capitol Records
In missionary positions
Used to love HER like Common
But then you get signed

but the illusion of
The confusion is a, and the solution is a
We manifest under oppression, put your mind to the test
Control the jealousy then take

I was scared to admit that I had failed again. During this time I struck up a friendship with a record producer that I had met networking,

gon' close like a book
Put him up like a shelf (Uh, huh)
They come back like a hook just
To fuck up his health

Ayy, for the record
I ain't finna front

Vapors

Biz Markie

Marley Marl's House of Hits

1995

Mark
I had to work for mine to put your body in park
When I was a teenager, I wanted to be down
With a lot of MC-DJ'ing crews in town
Saw this crew

niggas on the Eastside
(Put your hands on it)
I wrote this for my niggas on the Westside
(Hands on ya heat)
All my niggas in the north run, run with me

hahahaha
we got a bag full of bullets in this bitch with no name on them
you know what I'm saying
when you been hit by the bitch
you know it was ment

Surrounded by niggaz but now mutha fuckaz down to waste your back.

Chorus
Death row is bitches
Wanna be gangstas
Them niggaz just snitches

Death row is