The Republic of The Gambia, commonly referred to as The Gambia, or Gambia i/ˈɡæmbiə/, is a country in West Africa. Gambia is the smallest country on mainland Africa, surrounded by Senegal except for a short coastline on the Atlantic Ocean in the west.
The country is situated around the Gambia River, the nation's namesake, which flows through the country's centre and empties into the Atlantic Ocean. Its area is 11,295 km² with an estimated population of 1.7 million.
On 18 February 1965, Gambia gained independence from the United Kingdom and joined the Commonwealth of Nations. Banjul is Gambia's capital, but the largest cities are Serekunda and Brikama.
Gambia shares historical roots with many other West African nations in the slave trade, which was the key factor in the placing and keeping of a colony on the Gambia River, first by the Portuguese and later by the British. Since gaining independence in 1965, Gambia has enjoyed relative political stability, with the exception of a brief period of military rule in 1994.
Thomas Cook (22 November 1808 – 18 July 1892) of Melbourne, Derbyshire, England founded the travel agency that in 2007 became Thomas Cook Group.
Thomas Cook was born to John and Elizabeth Cook, who lived at 9 Quick Close in the village of Melbourne, Derbyshire. The couple's first child, he was named after Elizabeth's father, Thomas Perkins. John Cook died when Thomas was three years old, and his mother remarried later that same year.
At the age of 10, Cook started working as an assistant to a local market gardener for a wage of six pence a week. At the age of 14, he secured an apprenticeship with John Pegg, and spent five years as a cabinet maker.
He was brought up as a strict Baptist, and joined his local Temperance Society. In February 1826, Cook became a preacher, and toured the region as a village evangelist, distributing pamphlets, and occasionally working as a cabinet maker to earn money. After working as a part-time publisher of Baptist and Temperance pamphlets, he became a Baptist minister in 1828.
Philip Glass (born January 31, 1937) is an American composer. One of the highest profile composers writing "classical" music today, he is often said to be one of the most influential composers of the late 20th century. His music is also often controversially described as minimalist, along with the work of the other "major minimalists" La Monte Young, Terry Riley and Steve Reich.
He has lately distanced himself from the "minimalist" label, describing himself instead as a composer of "music with repetitive structures." Though his early mature music shares much with what is normally called "minimalist", he has since evolved stylistically. Currently, he describes himself as a "Classicist", pointing out that he is trained in harmony and counterpoint and studied such composers as Franz Schubert, Johann Sebastian Bach and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with Nadia Boulanger.
Glass is a prolific composer: he has written works for the musical group which he founded, the Philip Glass Ensemble (with which he still performs on keyboards), as well as operas, musical theatre works, ten symphonies, eleven concertos, solo works, chamber music including string quartets and instrumental sonatas, and film scores. Three of his film scores have been nominated for Academy Awards.
Let me take you to the wicked wicked Westside
Where them niggaz carry chrome and the best die
Where we push up in the corners that we fight for
City from the shores breeds gangsters and Vice Lords
Bustin pistols while we runnin from the five-oh
Hit the adversaries up because we drive slow
Oh I'm a killa mayne, standin on these corners
Hustlin for my denim mayne, and if you try to move
Soon as I hear one shot
I'ma let the tec and desert eagle ride non-stop
If I have to I'll commit a murder just to maintain
Tell me what you thought I'm from a city where they gangbang
And I got that thang thang
Get it however you want it cop a fo' and then split
Hustle hard and work your way up 'til you holdin a brick
Cop an ounce of this 'dro I got the flyest shit in town
Bet you within a week you'll be able to get a pound
Go ahead and drop you can whip on 24's to get around
Gettin paper make me feel like... {la-da-da-dahhh-deeeee}
Let me see all of my gangsters come up - in Chi-Town
Let me see all of my hustlers come up - in Brooklyn
Let me see all of my riders come up - in the Bay
Let me see all of my killers come up - in Houston
Let me see all of my bitches come up - in A-T-L
Let me see all of my niggaz come up - M-I-A
Now let me take you to the motherfuckin Southside
City of the chrome, get shot up for standin outside
Don't talk no shit or you can end up on primetime
My nigga Ty Nitti be holdin down the nine-nine
That's where the thugs lurks
I done been out there and seen them niggaz put in bloodwork
When I'm in the 100's you can always smell the scent of purple
These niggaz always gettin money in they inner circle
Fuck with 'em they fin' to hurt you; gotta get they cash on
Necessary evil they quick to put the mask on
Then they gotta put the mash on; steady bustin at each other
I take a tool and bust my strap and scream out "Free my brother~!"
Bitch-ass motherfuckers; I'm about to break 'em out
If they hit me before they get me I'ma take 'em out
If we successful we gon' smoke a blunt and cruise home
Introduce him to his new Charger with no shoes on
'Til the haters move on
Fin' to set up shop now, gotsta hold the block down
Gettin paper make me feel like... {la-da-da-dahhh-deeeee}
Now let me take you to the motherfuckin projects
Where the true thugs, and the elite members of the mob at
Know somebody; better call them out or try to tell them later
When they tell you "Where you from" when they catch you on the elevator
The fiends lurkin, niggaz serve in pissy hallways
Can't say shit cause they be gettin money all day
Mercedes parked out front, chillin with a hat cocked to the left
In the ride with the glock cocked smokin a blunt
300Z with the Lamborghini do's and some hoes with a big ol' project booty
And the beat kinda hot but the cops wanna come
To hold the work he got that duty
So they can't do nothin to me
Seventh flo' with the 'dro now, nineteenth flo' by the rocks now
Gettin paper make me feel like... {la-da-da-dahhh-deeeee}
Yeah, some oh-six shit
For all the real niggaz and bitches to ride to
Not none of that ol' lame-ass, metaphoric-ass ol' goofy shit~!
This some of that real shit, that Chi-Town shit
That gangster shit, fool!
Just gimme the countdown
Know where we goin [scratched: "AZ"]
Uh-huh ["AZ"] ["Streets is yours for the takin now"]
Feels so good ["AZ"]
[AZ]
You know the come up, stack get right, put the gun up
Laugh, get nice, split the blunt up
Pray blue and whites don't run up, remain humble
You see the change when the Range come through
When all the fame ups your game cause your name's mumbled
The chicks notice, usually it's like hypnosis
It's ferocious when broke niggaz get focused
The cars come out, bottles at the bar run it
You know you're large when you in car could dodge a drought
But here's the twist up, when beef and the money mix up
Skirts lift up, a few fights, few stick-ups
Then one little thing just, leads to the next and
Here come them hot boys to breathe down your neck
Now you gotta pack up, flee from the rest and
Just so we can go, you was free from the stress
I guess it is what it is
[Chorus: DJ Premier scratching]
"Creepin on a come up" "Streets is yours for the takin now"
"Creepin on a come up" "I'm from the place where hardcore is beautiful"
"Creepin on a come up" "Streets is yours for the takin now"
"I'm rather unique" "I'm from the place" "Brooklyn"
[AZ]
You know the saga, who liver, who hotter
Who shot at who at the Ramada
I knew about beef since Bambaataa
Before "Beat Street" streets was heavily deep with the riders
Guns and money, some was hungry
Dysfunctional families that come from junkies
Jailbirds with wanted warrants up in countries
Just jungle survivin like a bunch of monkies
Marked dollars, D.A. NARC's with collars
Niggaz snitchin, but still got the heart to holla
Hot chicks in short skirts and damn near topless
Play fly and they gossip, stay high and just ride dick
Can't call it, too fresh to spoil it
Two tecs to war with, grew up next to all this
So understand I know from firsthand
The lies of a church man, high off his first gram
[Chorus]
[AZ]
The jails is packed, the streets is wack
It's even worse when your workers tappin your beeper sack
Wifey's gettin feisty, she's beefin back
Though it's unlikely, it might be her Visa's maxed
The coke is up, so now cushion throws what's up
And the Ricans got the game in the cobra clutch
The D's in the Capris too close to duck
But what the fuck, they can suck on some coconuts
The stress is real, it drains all the sex appeal
Nuttin left but jail death or a record deal
Vibes is weak, hoes wanna slide and creep
Even fiends got a thing for that hide and seek
Stick-up kids, kidnap, switch up cribs
It's still crazy how them cocksuckers hit up Big
'Pac is gone, the state of hip-hop is wrong
You want more then long on to A-Z dot com
(feat. Sunshine Anderson)
(Petey Pablo)
Getcha money, it's tha come up
Nada nada, get the whole thing
Do it big. yeaaaaaaaaaaaa
(Petey Pablo)
Time is tickin', with a hole in the hourglass
Startin' guns, been five
And I ain't tryin to come in last
Ain't no need for me to be upset
And ain't no need for you to be mad
If a man got his own pad
And whether he want forty-karat
He gonna have to do that there, prove yourself
The greed words, you had that there
What a dream, he would always had
And it ain't right, but that's the way it is
In this life, you don't get to deal
You can climb to the roulette wheel
I want something I can leave my kids
The memories of what they wish their daddy had did
If I could leave them all a couple of mill
And show em how this cruel world can really get the best of a nigga
I'd show em life through the eyes of a demon
The only thing that matters is the root of all evil
(Chorus-Sunshine Anderson (Petey Pablo))
Getcha money made (getcha meoney), it's tha come up (it's tha come up)
Not a little bit (nada nada), get the whole thing (get the whole thing)
Gotta do it big (do it big), to sum it up (yeeaaaaaaa)
We just wanted it, tha come up
(This time through added libs by Sunshine Anderson)
Getcha money made (getcha meoney), it's tha come up (it's tha come up)
Not a little bit (nada nada), get the whole thing (get the whole thing)
Gotta do it big (do it big), to sum it up (yeeaaaaaaa)
We just wanted it, tha come up
(Petey Pablo)
I aint got time to be bothered with ya'll
I got a hundred problems and there's only one way I'm gonna solve em
I'm gonna have to get my grind on
Hustlin' and using my muscle tryin to bring the prize home
I ain't the only nigga with issues and I know that
But I ain't concerned with nobody's issues by mine Jack
I invented jail, invited(?) em back
Hell, I'm still in that
The only thing left now is six feet of cold black
Flower bringin' and church singin'
In a grave stiffed up and stankin'
And you can tell that I've been thinkin' can't cha(can't cha)
Now maybe you can understand my anger
And while I'm still out there candy slangin'
And while I'm out there, chasin' them banks
And why I gotta smoke a pound of dank
You never know when your day gonna be your last day
Better get this money when it should've been made (maaade)
(Chorus)
(Petey Pablo)
I'm sorry it had to come to this (to this)
I know I'm really disrespecting your family members
That really love to care
It ain't ya'll, cause ya'll know me better than this
I guess it's just the way that I'm is
And maybe I'm a deadbeat kid
Maybe I really don't deserve to live
Maybe they should have gave me life in prison
Only takin' what they give me
Cause out here, I'm stuck in menace
Cause out here, I'm a threat to niggas
I'm like smokin' and pumpin' gas
Light the fire loose to the filter (whew)
You don't feel the vibe we givin'
Cause if you'd did, you'd done been the hell up
You'd done been stickin' ahead of your business
You'd of been, shittin' embarrassed to hit me
You'd of been, sent them boys to get me
Nah ah ah
And I don't repent cause I ain't that nigga
And anything I done, I meant it (you meant it, you meant it)
(Chorus) 2X
(Sunshine Anderson)
Getch yo money made