Kanye Omari West ( /ˈkɑːnjeɪ/; born June 8, 1977) is an American musician, film director and fashion designer. West first rose to fame as a producer for Roc-A-Fella Records, where he eventually achieved recognition for his work on Jay-Z's album The Blueprint, as well as hit singles for musical artists including Alicia Keys, Ludacris, and Janet Jackson. His style of production originally used pitched-up vocal samples from soul songs incorporated with his own drums and instruments. However, subsequent productions saw him broadening his musical palette and expressing influences encompassing '70s R&B, baroque pop, trip hop, arena rock, folk, alternative, electronica, synthpop, and classical music.
West released his debut album The College Dropout in 2004, his second album Late Registration in 2005, his third album Graduation in 2007, his fourth album 808s & Heartbreak in 2008, and his fifth album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy in 2010. West released a collaborative album, Watch the Throne with Jay-Z in 2011, which is the duo's first collaborative album. His five solo albums, all of which have gone platinum, have received numerous awards and critical acclaim. As of 2012, West has won a total of eighteen Grammy Awards, making him one of the most awarded artists of all-time. All albums have been very commercially successful, with My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy becoming his fourth consecutive No. 1 album in the U.S. upon release. West has had 5 songs exceed 3 million in digital sales as of July 2011, with "Gold Digger" selling 3,086,000, "Stronger" selling 4,402,000, "Heartless" selling 3,742,000, "E.T." selling over 4,000,000 and "Love Lockdown" selling over 3,000,000 placing him third in overall digital sales of the past decade. He has sold over 30 million digital songs in the United States making him one of the best-selling digital artists of all-time.
Curtis James Jackson III (born July 6, 1975), better known by his stage name 50 Cent, is an American rapper, entrepreneur, investor, record producer, and actor. He rose to fame with the release of his albums Get Rich or Die Tryin' (2003) and The Massacre (2005). His album Get Rich or Die Tryin' has been certified eight times platinum by the RIAA.
Born in the South Jamaica of Queens, New York City, Jackson began drug dealing at the age of twelve during the 1980s crack epidemic. After leaving drug dealing to pursue a rap career, he was shot at and struck by nine bullets during an incident in 2000. After releasing his album Guess Who's Back? in 2002, Jackson was discovered by rapper Eminem and signed to Interscope Records. With the help of Eminem and Dr. Dre, who produced his first major commercial successes, Jackson became one of the world's highest selling rappers. In 2003, he founded the record label G-Unit Records, which signed several successful rappers such as Young Buck, Lloyd Banks, and Tony Yayo.
On the way to big daddy’s
she’s telling us
that she’s the best smelling (Reggie)
[laughs]
in north Alabama
they had a contest
And she was rated the best smelling (Reggie) in north Alabama
And that she was a good mother
but she loveeeeeeed to smoke crack
but she was a good mother
what wh
I love to smoke crack
and I love (the full effect)
Guess who's back?
[2Pac]
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
two minutes to bounce, and every second counts
Better press, wreck on your tech, here we go, set pass the Moet
My trickery's more slippery when wet
Wicked as I flip, don't trip, get a grip
It'll kick, if the bass line's thick, it's a hit
Everybody's got a mic now, its like a hobby
But more like a job, cause bootleggers tryin to rob me
And little man wants to be a rap, star
Make papes, hit skins, drive a fat car
It ain't easy, sleazy even
Deceivin those we, believe in
No benefits, just tricks and chicks
Knock a pig to pick, so here's a stick to lick
I shoot a gift, til there ain't none left
And if I find that the track sound def
I catch wreck till I lose my breath
That's how it goes in the land of broke
I dispose of those, rock shows, and collect my dough
Now I suppose I'm the bad guy, why?
I say, 'Hi,' and try to stay high
Life's a mess don't stress, test.. of givin
but be thankful that you're livin.. blessed
Guess who's back, comin back with the track supplied
by Special Ed and Ak, comin right and exact
I'm fightin it back, now snap, where they at?
When it's time to go to combat, guess who's back
[Chorus: repeat 4X]
'Yes I'm back' - [Special Ed]
'Tupac is' .. back!!
[2Pac]
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
one minute to bounce, and every second counts
I went from hustlin dicks, to makin hits, bustin flicks
Now I'm sure to be rich for ninety-six
I pull my 'capes on tapes, and make, papes
Trace the bass, to the tape with the baddest bass to date
I try to shake it but the pace is hard to break
Good thoughts I wait, cause they hate my black take
Yeah, it's on, and it's packed in the rap race
But if ya got a black face, its a rat race
I struggle to be rugged and raw, Dukes
Tryin to survive in the trials and lawsuits
Everybody wants to test me, WHY ME?
No lie, nuckas cried when they try me
Givin up the roughness, justice
I'ma bust as I'm rippin up 'nuff hits
And guess who's back? No longer trapped
Cause I snapped on the ones that held me back, feel the contact
Ride the track, get I grip as I flip
Ghetto wickedness I kick, guess who's back?
[Chorus 1.5X]
'Yes I'm back, cause I never did front' - [cut 'n' scratched]
[verse 1] look, look Im way above your average,
mind of a wise man but im younger than your dad is,
your witnessing a savage cant comprehend my status
at the top, but we came up from the ground like the radish,
look im rashing the rappers who keep acting
like they have a passion but ill match it
leave you in ashes ,no casket,
everyday practice, trash bag rappers,
aint seeing me in this rap ish
like they forgot their glasses,
asking why you young but your flow so old yo,
im spitting bananas like Mojojo,
Im still high even when im monotone,
building blocks for the game like chromosomes,
in my zone so nobody can touch me,
dogging so I must be, a Siberian husky,
my homies call me lucky,
I just call it hardworking, plus im hungry for success I got the munchies,
I heard im really selfish, or maybe you just jealous,
they say im hot dog probably cause I got the relish,
disregarded everything them haters tried to tell us,
cause we spitting and they saying "word" now they tryna spell us
and it sounds like B.E.N.T ,
all my old homies transformed to new envy,
im just tryna make a million dollars out of pennies,
we gon' turn this to a movie yeah we moving to the Emmys,
and shooting for the moon, not enough room
for this huge outcome when we blow up like balloons,
they waiting for the sound it gon' sound like kaboom,
we bout to take flight once we out our cocoons,
this is long waited history, hope you haters listening,
while this younging spitting heat, melting the whole Christmas,
paper stacking beat attacking, get the beat up crack lacking
im the leader call me captain of this little ship we in ,
look, im beating them by a landslide
cause my lines be coordinated like han-di,
and I , keep it real never hear a dang lie,
passed A's and B's like E.T - Kyle XY,
and I do it so effortlessly see,
kill the beat hope it is resting in peace please,
nobody can alter my destiny see,
imma do it big forget if you think less of me,
he , is a younging that grinds for,
waiting all his life now he thinks its time for it,
devoting time and spitting every single line for it,
so please dont tell me that imma have to wait in line for it ,nah
Talk to me man
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'fuckin noise up
We'll get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distortin', bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we workin' wit' it
The boy Face on the baseline, Face Mob
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov' chea
Kanye West on the track, Chi-Town, what's goin' on now?
Can I talk to y'all for a minute? Lemme talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby, I don't want much
Lemme talk to these muh'fuckas, lemme talk to these muh'fuckas
Lemme talk, lemme talk, lemme talk to these muh'fuckas
Guess who's bizack? You still smellin' crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back down to taxin' them roads
When I was huggin' it, niggaz couldn't do nuttin' wit' it
Straight from the oven wit' it, came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth, for the shit she instilled in me
Still with me
Pain plus work shit she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these niggaz can't fuck with me
I'm callin' guts every time, drag my nuts every time
Homey, we make a great combination don't we?
Me and the Face Mob, every time we face-off
Face it y'all, y'all niggaz playin' basic ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall
Homey, I'm in the drop with the AC on
That's why the, streets embrace me dawg, I'm so cool
Guess who's bizack?
Back on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the fo'
'Cause this street shit is all I know
From the womb to the tomb a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Tryna make me forty thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run in my room
And guess who's, guess who's bizack? It's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eight ball, gotta get this cake dawg
Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go
Fuck you think I slang fo', to go against the grain
I'm out, I'm out here to grind mo', rapped up in the paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine hoe and candy paint the 88
Don't got no wholesale, 'cause that ain't how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones and bring a nigga back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool
Money is an issue and that's on the fa' shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle
And make fa' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain't makin' a dime
'Cause I got, shit to lose a nigga out here payin' his dues
My baby walkin' gotta get him some shoes
It's a new game doin', lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'm a give ya the blues
It's a new game doin', lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'm a give ya the blues
Guess who's bizack?
The boy B Mizack, A.K.A, Mr. Crack-A-Brick
Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rips
A hot plate will make ya swell up if ya gasket clicked
You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Young'n never pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole hood on flip like on box-spring
Pissy Mack and shit, low old box of things
Strictly glassy shit I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the mornin', with the old heads
Slangin' loose quarters, this Philly cat back gatted
Still fuckin' with them crack addicts
Still bustin' with that black-matic
Guess who's bizack?
Back on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the fo'
Guess who's biz-ack it's not beanie Siegal or J-Hov
It's 50 Cent ya niggas should know
Don't make me relapse
Run up on yo' ass with the 4
You punk nigga I done told you before
Fuck being in a cage "man that shit's for the birds"
I do my dirt in the hood but I live in the burbs
When ya talk be careful how you choose your words
Cause send niggas to put ya fuckin' brains on the curb
Am I my brothers keeper? "Yes I am"
You know to get low, you see that gun in my hand
G-UNIT! Don't go fuckin' with my soldiers Boy
I leave you laid out I'ma say "I told you boy"
You rollin with twenty niggas, you rollin' with twenty guns
Sixteen hollows in loaded in every one
I know you slow so I do the math
That's 320 shells lying at your ass (HA!)
You spend alot of time talkin' bout how you ball out
When you get hit you gon' run and bleed to you fall out
I guess you didn't think we was down to go all out
Once again you was wrong
You ain't on the shit we on
My money gettin' long
Now my team gettin' strong
I'm gone!!
Guess who's biz-ack it's not beanie Siegal or J-Hov
It's 50 Cent ya niggas should know
Don't make me relapse
Run up on yo' ass with the 4
You punk nigga I done told you before
Guess who's biz-ack it's not beanie Siegal or J-Hov
It's 50 Cent ya niggas should know
Don't make me relapse
Run up on yo' ass with the 4
You punk nigga I done told you before (bitch)
50 Cent!
Fuck what niggas talking 'bout boy I'm on my grind
Pursuit of happiness so money on my mind
People say duty calls and if it's on my line
I get a two minute warning bitch you on my time
Heard it through that vine
That I ain't kicked it and that minute they was missing me
Hold the trap, had to give ‘em raps for their misery
Every snap I smile, the bitches make a gift for me
I'm laughing out the bank on my way to the dispensary
Get my hair cut, my nigga Kenny do that shit for free
The amenities of living life like a fucking G
When will they understand that niggas can't fuck with me
And I don't need the throne just seat me in the lap of luxury
I'll be smoking grass till it's grass that I'm underneath
Chilling at the pad with a bad one for company
I make the haters mad with the cash I accompany
I know you think I'm spaz but this only what I've done for free
[Verse 2: Casey Veggies]
Check my bank account and it was at like 53
Thats pretty solid for a young nigga born in '93
Never had problems pulling young chickens so she sticks to me
That is what often make my mind want to skip a beat
Stay focused you in the gray mode and
Just make more dope shit, you got to stay golden
As much I love love to swim she got a gray ocean
And I can spice it up if I use 8 motions
Talking 'bout life's a bitch thats why I stay pokin'
And I'm all in her friend, thats who I lay low with
Ever since I could remember I've been winning, 18 and 0
Saw my self at the top and started grinding off the dreams and hopes
Went to buying expensive, getting here by expeditions yo
Forced me to believe all this shit I got ment for show
Fuck them other niggas, I ride for my niggas
Guess who's back.
Who the thugs with the wickedest rhymes
Wickedest rhymes, wickedest rhymes
Bone Thugs back and your gonna be in trouble
We keep it goin' get it for the Mid West
Krayzie, Layzie, Bizzy, Wish
We can't forget about Flesh
We finna drop another bomb
We figure they can't take another rhyme
Come back off and get um with another platinum ryhthm
and they won't fuck in the lab
They want to try to keep up so come on
Thirty million sold and that I'll just stay at that now what about that
Listen to the thuggish
And listen to every other rapper rap about who that come from
Talkin' Bone fell off
Say what they bust just like us
They ain't even knowin' were it came from like richer niggas
They ain't going to give it to us so we gon take it
We just come to tell you that Bone Thugs back
And we still creepin'
Bone Thugs back and your gonna be in trouble
Guess who's back.
Now tell me how many thugs
Get down like us
And still harmonize like the great Temptations
Sit back look back
Came in the game
Came right back (back) With no hesitation
Put up yo money honey what ever ya got we won't lose
Put up or shut up
Get slapped in front of all your dogs
And all your dudes
Cause I'm a smarter thug all ways wanted to be a thug
What do you think
Do you think he gon do something
Don't let the money fool you
Don't let the money do you
Cause it ain't really about nothin' (nothin')
Its just so much they gon let in
Toss that we gon show you who you are messin' with
That's why I started a war in this rap game
You got to hit hard
And let them now who they dealin' with
Guess who's back.
Bone Thugs back and your gonna be in trouble
Who the thugs with the wickedest rhymes
Wickedest rhymes, wickedest rhymes
When we meet on the concrete jungle
We can do it
We can rumble
Take it to the streets
And let the whole world crumble
All I ever seen was heavy smoke in the air
Bustin' heavy shots
They just don't care
If you don't then I'm goin to get all tha bloodiness
Niggas want peace but I know they all gon test us
The thugs commin' back to bring the thug essence
Thugs commin' back to bring back the thug blessins
For the lord where doin' to fight the wind
Imma fight to get them all hyped again
Tell the Bone Thug story again
If a nigga still hatin' a pipe again
Like I did before creep creep and I came
Just four more niggas down for there thang
Never been afraid to let my nuts hang
How to you think Bone Thug made it to the top of the game nigga
Fully automatic loaded
Remy Martin fill my potion
Coastin' on freeways keep rollin' till we hit the ocean
Motion on freeways bout to bustin on niggas bostion
Popi Cholos solo with my pistol so smokin'
Pullin' pop up bitch nigga if you talkin'
Tokin', tortin' with my pistol
Got you people open
These niggas is enemys
Shots up in they body
Never was friend to me
Pass me the Hennessey
Bone Thugs back and your gonna be in trouble
New York City, whaddup? Ya'll ready or what?
Check, I think they ready now, baby
It's the return of the Wild Style fashionist
Smashin' hits, make it hard to adapt to this
Put pizazz and jazz in this, and cash in this
Mastered this, flash this and make 'em clap to this
DJ's throw on cuts and obey the crowd
Just pump the volume up and play it loud
Hip-hop's embedded, before I said I wouldn't let it
But me and the microphone is still magnetic
Straight off the top, I knew I'd be forced to rock
Dance floors just stop, the spot's scorchin' hot
Hopin' I open Rakim Allah seminars
Massage at the bar, smokin' ten dollar cigars
While I admire midas, with more vision than TV's
I find it easy catchin' diabetes from fly sweeties
Sit back and wait to hear a slammin' track
Rockin' jams by popular demand, I'm back
I control the crowd, you know I hold it down
When it drop you know it's jiggy when you hear the sound
From town to town, until it's world renowned
And I rock New York City all year around
It's on, you can swerve when it's heard in clubs
Thought patterns displayed on Persian rugs
Equations are drawn up in paisley form
Mic it stay warm, my flow is Evian
Deep as a Nautilus, you stay dipped in Ra style
From the shores of Long Island to Panama Canal
Intellect pitches, new trends like a clothes designer
I'm in effect, quicker than medicines in China
Split the mic open, fill it with somethin' potent to go in
And take a toke then mental planes start floatin'
Hot science is smokin' altitudes cause chokin'
Product is hypnotic, you're soakin' and still smokin'
Better scenes than grams of amphetamines
Plans to scheme, means I'll forever fiend
Long as the mic is loud and the volumes are up
I control the crowd, you know I hold it down
When it drop you know it's jiggy when you hear the sound
From town to town, until it's world renowned
And I rock New York City all year around
I control the crowd, you know I hold it down
When it drop you know it's jiggy when you hear the sound
From town to town, until it's world renowned
where the husslers, where the husslers at
all the cats that trap where the fuck you at
i've been missing for a minute, put the hussler back
and if you hussle you should fuck with that
where the husslers, where the husslers at
all the cats that trap where the fuck you at
i've been missing for a minute, put the hussler back
and if you hussle you should fuck with that
where the husslers at
i'm back in my bag now, ah
i was chilling in the cut, but that cut got a scab now
i get so much cash now, i send my girl to the louie store
with 50 grand in her louie bag now
you and your man going half on a half pound
if you not a stand up nigger, sit your ass down
that chick you cuffing i'm fucking i know you mad now
she just licked the dick and you probably kissing her ass now
i'm with jag in the glass top jag now
and you ain't got enough money to catch a cab now
i'm the hussler ask around
i wear so much ice, if it melt
it'd probably make my ass drown
i dropped out the but graduated from the school of hard knox
you a class clown, nobody sound how a cat sound
that's why i had to come back, cause cats is spitting trash now
where the husslers, where the husslers at
all the cats that trap where the fuck you at
i've been missing for a minute, put the hussler back
and if you hussle you should fuck with that
where the husslers, where the husslers at
all the cats that trap where the fuck you at
i've been missing for a minute, put the hussler back
and if you hussle you should fuck with that
where the husslers at
i'm back on my bullshit, i'm not a matador
but the bull strip, popping like a bull whip
4 5 with the full clip on the bull whip
and i got my knife, you might get your jugular slit
the bull reach, that's why whores on a bull's dick
i make a whore strip
i'm trying to buy some more whips
that's why i'm trying to buy more bricks and more pounds of that raw piff
every ball raw and go bunkers like the born swiss
better than before shit
the game was missing my presence,
i just caught the whip topless like the bitches imperfections,
i be running the strip reckless
that's why i love that white girl
more than them bitches i'm having sex with
where the husslers, where the husslers at
all the cats that trap where the fuck you at
i've been missing for a minute, put the hussler back
and if you hussle you should fuck with that
where the husslers, where the husslers at
all the cats that trap where the fuck you at
i've been missing for a minute, put the hussler back
and if you hussle you should fuck with that
I got the skills to pay the bills
I don't pop pills but I send chills
Up your spine when I rhyme
I get wicked, you got a booger, pick it
Sippin' on the 40, ya know it makes me horny
Spread them legs, grab my axe
Fire up the grill and crack the kegs
Nobody fear, the party's here
Everlast is comin', the funky drummer's drummin'
Ya only came backstage to make the front page
To get me locked up, or get yourself knocked up
But I ain't with it, even if I did it
I got a hundred homeboys to say I didn't hit it
My name's Everlast, I got the funky rhymes
I make more papers than the LA Times
I don't do lines, but I puff blunts
I don't rock fronts, but I stuff stunts
Fill 'em to the brim like a cup of coffee
If ya don't know me, homey, back up off me
Cause I ain't soft, see, I'll fly ahead
You wind up dead, you made your bed
Now ya gotta lie in it, don't bother tryin' it
Take my advice, homeboy, think twice
Before you step up, step back
Or catch a smack, guess who's back
(He's back) Guess who's back (Everybody's in the street)
(He's back) (Everybody's in the street)
(He's back)
He's back from the dead, with the shaved head
Don't start to trip, dip, I brought my lead
Just in case you wanna fuck around
I'll stare ya dead in the face, and then I'll buck ya down
I'll put ya six feet deep, some say talk's cheap
But I make big bucks servin' up punk ducks
By the pound, I got the sound
I never been checked, I only get wrecked
I kick the willy drag, let my pants sag
Don't give up the booty, cause I ain't no fag
Checkin' out checkit, I'm prone to wreck shit
If ya dig this joint, check the next shit
I'm Everlast and it's a natural fact
That the white man is back
I'll eat you up like some butter cups from Reeses
I come in peace, but you'll leave in pieces
That's how I'm livin', that's how it goes
Everyday I'm sleepin', every night I'm doin' shows
Always gettin' hoes when there's hoes to get got
Always wear my hat so I never need a shot
Always drink a beer before I write a rhyme
And if I have to drive I avoid the one time
Stay between the lines and I won't get pulled over
I don't need luck cause I got a four leaf clover
Yea I'm Irish, word to the motherland
But on the otherhand
I love America, apple pie, mom and all that
My pockets stay phat, step the fuck back
Play me close and you catch a mean dose
Guess who's back?
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
two minutes to bounce, and every second counts
Better press, wreck on your tech, here we go, set pass the Moet
My trickery's more slippery when wet
Wicked as I flip, don't trip, get a grip
It'll kick, if the bass line's thick, it's a hit
Everybody's got a mic now, its like a hobby
But more like a job, cause bootleggers tryin to rob me
And little man wants to be a rap, star
Make papes, hit skins, drive a fat car
It ain't easy, sleazy even
Deceivin those we, believe in
No benefits, just tricks and chicks
Knock a pig to pick, so here's a stick to lick
I shoot a gift, til there ain't none left
And if I find that the track sound def
I catch wreck till I lose my breath
That's how it goes in the land of broke
I dispose of those, rock shows, and collect my dough
Now I suppose I'm the bad guy, why?
I say, "Hi," and try to stay high
Life's a mess don't stress, test.. of givin
but be thankful that you're livin.. blessed
Guess who's back, comin back with the track supplied
by Special Ed and Ak, comin right and exact
I'm fightin it back, now snap, where they at?
When it's time to go to combat, guess who's back
"Yes I'm back" -
"Tupac is" .. back!!
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
one minute to bounce, and every second counts
I went from hustlin dicks, to makin hits, bustin flicks
Now I'm sure to be rich for ninety-six
I pull my 'capes on tapes, and make, papes
Trace the bass, to the tape with the baddest bass to date
I try to shake it but the pace is hard to break
Good thoughts I wait, cause they hate my black take
Yeah, it's on, and it's packed in the rap race
But if ya got a black face, its a rat race
I struggle to be rugged and raw, Dukes
Tryin to survive in the trials and lawsuits
Everybody wants to test me, WHY ME?
No lie, nuckas cried when they try me
Givin up the roughness, justice
I'ma bust as I'm rippin up 'nuff hits
And guess who's back? No longer trapped
Cause I snapped on the ones that held me back, feel the contact
Ride the track, get I grip as I flip
Ghetto wickedness I kick, guess who's back?
We gotta tell the story.
On the way to Big Daddy's, she was telling us that she's the best smelling (REGGIE) in North Alabama. They had a contest and she was rated the best smelling (REGGIE) in North Alabama and that she was a good mother but that she loved to smoke crack, but that she was a good mother.
I love to smoke crack and I love (AND THE FULL EFFECT).
But she was the best smelling (REGGIE) in North Alabama.