Curren$y - Breakfast

Love wakin to this one:

I'm so cold with it
the potentcy of the beat is consistent
with the fact that mos did it
prolific not shakin or stirred
in da presence of those niggas, herbs
they only after ya bread them fuckin birds
you think they like your haircut fair enough
live your life partna, guess I can keep these two cents in my pocket
add that to these underground rap dollas refused the majors
and stayed real I kept my promise roll bamboos in the bahamas mama
it's either that or them strawberry colidas
X-box web browser download an updated NBA roster
play 82 game season condo full of snacks spitta not leavin
off brand muthafuckas odd numbas you are not even on my level
write that sickness my ink pen sneezin yancy thigpin
can't catch me sleepin you ear hustlin muthafucka
and I'm eatin creepin with my side bitch
hope I don't ge caught cheatin.
New Orleans dis morning new yorkin this evening
squintin they eyes and shit they can't see him fly in the house
buzzin them bugs can't be him elegible letters in my leger
they can't read him smilin money pilein I'm cheesin
spee)dometer broken I ain't know that I was speedin
fast livin slow gin for these bitches
I got that game from my Pittsburg niggas
SV Diablo 96 Wings lift, Daniel son crane kick
WAA

Jay Electronica - Shiny Suit Theory

Jay-Z lends some bars to the new Roc signee. Lyricism is on the rise..
(size slimmed just for you level85 :D


I’m sailing on a cloud
They’re trailing below
My shrink told me it’s a feeling they’ll never know
I pack all my sins and I wear them to the show
I let ‘em go, let ‘em go, let ‘em go, let ‘em go
I’m sailing on a cloud
They’re trailing below
My shrink told me it’s a feeling they’ll never know
I pack all my sins and every L that I blow
I let ‘em go, let ‘em go, let ‘em go, let ‘em go
In a land before time
A land before alter boys and the gods and shrines
Man was in his prime
Look how far I go in time just to start a rhyme
The method is sublime you get blessed with every line
I’m in touch with every shrine from Japan to Oaxaca
The melanated, carbon dated phantom of the Chakras
Me and Puff, we was chillin’ in Miama
He said fuck the the underground you need to win a Grammy
For yo momma and your family
They need to see you shined up
You built a mighty high ladder let me see you climb up
Nigga what you scared of?
Tell Rocky’s, artificial rap niggas, and spread love
pollenate the ear buds
Like you supposed ta
Spit it for the culture
Pay no attention to the critics and the vultures
They’d rather have a shot of Belvy just despite you
They pass the judgements because they feel they have the right to
Fuck ‘em, I let the dice roll like my father did
I gotta shine it’s in my blood I’m a Harlem kid
I treat my babies right
I treat my lady’s lady like
Hit em with a remix to make sure that they play me twice
I thought you said its return of the black kings
Luxurious homes, fur coats, and fat chains

Curren$y - Airborne Aquarium

I'm gettin hella mail from jail
Niggas tellin me to kill it
When they get out i'll bring em round some bitches
Shinobi how i kick it, american ninja, major motion picture
Flippin my remote, same way i do with them hoes

Check out Pilot Talk 2 in stores Monday!

Pilot Talk 2

Raekwon jumps on the remix of Michael Knight off Pilot Talk 2


Official Video:


I got a style for every bump in ya face
Greaseball ass nigga, Pontiac Judge
Open and Shut Case
You Know, I'm bowtied till I die
Though I made an exception for the '69
so quick off the line
Coin double side
but no matter what, we heads up
We in the yard, tell ya dawgs they should be aware of us
We break it off like an engagement gone bad
I fill ya jacuzzi with them groupies, make it a bird bath
Miss me? No you didn't bitch, with that bullshit, 'Miss me'
Tryna claim Spitta' name, tryna be Miss Me,
All of that is kicks to me, Silly rabbit trickery,
You only around because my spot is where you wish to be,
Hope to catch me sleepin by bein freaky,
But babygirl, let me be the first to say it's not that easy
I wasn't born yesterday, nor later on that evening,
Just had to get that out the way and make the playing field even

Curren$y - The Day

Some lyrics from Curren$y off Pilot Talk


brand new tires, rollin down the same old strip
new party, same old chicks
im so sorry if i dont look happy to be here
in your label office, but they said i cant smoke weed here
man fuck it im out, black owned
and im bout it fool, i got a studio in my house
along with some the perks that come with my work
pretty twenty something sleepin in my diamond supply shirt
there is not a adjective to describe how i work
hard is not enough, brother im tougher
whack niggas with that sleep rappin and woke up in trouble
you was cool ten years ago, you fucking lex bubbles
you gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em
learn how to roll with the punches
take em to school, give these niggas brown bag lunches
if it aint the jets then it aint nothing

Elevator Musi|c

Here i sit, on the floor
Earin up the beat i keep askin for more
Just exhaustin heat, from my core
Floatin to the ceiling next stop is the store
To satisfy my cravings I empty out my savings
Goji gummys swishers the essentials when i'm fading
Back into black, those were my darker times
Perhaps i'll shed some light on them later in my rhymes

Let me thank you for joining this affair
Without your listen i wouldn't be here
I've got plans for this game let me grab a chair
Risin up in the ranks, without the flair
Crashin lyrics with drums makes the song sound bare
So i mop the floors, covered with red hair
I'm a janitor on this beat i ain't gotta care
Now if you followin my flow we can make a pair

Try to keep it straight like a perfect rillo break
And stuff in so much quality that i have to use a rake
But not wrappin leaves just spittin fire til i freeze
Given you consecutive hits that bring you to your knees
Cloudin up the room with my left over debris
THC in the lungs, mary makes three
Who else is capable of coming out of their tree
And blazin this bomb in the field with me

I keep loads of stank on deck to burn
Stacks of broken bats that make the heart churn
Rippin center field bombs will make them learn
But every time they see me doin a 180 turn
Runnin to the fence won't let you get away
I fly over that shit and continue to spray
This potent smoke, chem trails in your way
Face it bro in this field your high all day

Corner In My Room

There's a light i left on in my room
Been on for so long it's about to pop like a balloon
It illuminates the dark corners of my mind
Lettin me paint the rhymes like i'm doin the crimes
But what you're getting is much more than this
Cause I never stop to pop the bottles of criss
Just continue to write and spit, everythings legit
Question it, and you can just press skip
Don't need criticisms or little snide comments
I'm freein my mind up with the commets
Don't feel i'm above or better, despite my polo sweater
Still, hidden in these lines are plenty of treasures
I ain't pimpin or wheelin low in my ride
But then again, i've never tried
So basically what i'm saying is i've become tired
Of listenin to this wack, why aren't they fired
So much skill out there, just lacking audience with an ear
For quality over muck, passion before luck
Times running out and everyone will be fucked
This is your generation don't hop on the truck
Or bus, or trolly, you followin that line crawling
Might as well have UPS puttin you on a dolly
And now you standin there like a lolli
So pop in my tunes, maybe eat some shrooms
Expand your mind beyond it's current binds
Before dark times loom guarentee they coming soon
I've seen em all from this corner of my room

Leave a comment; let me know what ya think!

Wrap Around

Now that you’ve heard my thoughts on the situation
I’m gonna explain how I’m gonna change it
Make quality sound everytime I come through
Follow my path and it should guide you
Break down every part of the beat
Match it word for sound to bring the heat
Drop out one-liners and discrete entities
And the continuous flow will bring you to your knees
Remove unnecessary explicits and shots
Buildin dams in your stream and creatin clots
I hope you still followin my torch-lit path
Many bumps in the road I don’t want you to crash
But to get your cash you must feel my wrath
My grip on the game and how it’s gonna change
Music’s too lame and is beyond a shame
So here’s my solution for current and future times
Quit getting caught in bullshit, don’t let media make your mind
Cause who are you really, people shiftin your thoughts daily
You’re not concrete, your brains asleep, and that’s the issue mainly
Too many puppets, not enough fuck-its, and a lot of smart folk thuggin it
Flip this game, it’s too much pain for little to no gain
Gotta run hard all day just to get some small change
But it’s not the extreme cause the next days the same

Back Again

Back again to end all the racket,
Take the beat wrap it, restrain it in a jacket
Make jackin impossible when I get straight
Create, never late nor imitate
Always fascinate and avoid the break
Let originals be that, quit with the fake
Taking vehicles out of the used lot
Trying to make changes to a beat up stock
Maybachin my material so it can’t be jocked
But I know all the bummys are still gonna flock
Not from the hood or even a city
But I got insight, enough to give pity
Try to bring the game back to righteous times
When skill meant more than one punch line
Per song, per album; ya’ll Ballin? That I can’t fathom,
My flow is gonna grab em
Snatch up your audience and your buyers
Movin in the hood with cheaper fire
Slices for fifty of strictly potent shit
You workin with that brick, I call it counterfeit
Talkin bout guns, groupies, and murder plots
Last time you played with arms your own leg got shot
Don’t understand that the people, they want it straight
So fall back for two years, listen, anticipate
For my takeover, no need to participate
Sittin on the crate behind bars is where you belong
My 17’ll get you trapped, leave you with a collapsed lung
Gasp for air, you’re almost there,
Hop on this beat and you’ve fed yourself to bears

Will get these over some instrumentals..

Tired of Hearing the Same Nonsense

Layin in bed thinkin how to alter this tune..
Hear repetitive noise everywhere I go,
Even in my own studio
Instruments are good and the lyrics are tame,
Makin the overall sound still the same
Rhyme it to the top when tell you where I reside,
Boone be that spot like the Fourth of July
Tune your head in to my intricate rhyme
Pattern and scheme, it’s how I’d like to make cream
Instead I earn my way through the belts
Yellow, orange, green creating a nice pattern scheme
Until I reach my goals I continue to smelt
Bow, bap, bam, and make contenders yelp
Black thing on my waist, so I’m feeling confident
But my masters taught me appropriate use of it
So I sit back and disregard the patterns ya’ll be following
Cause that type of sound just ain’t my calling
I’m gonna keep at this til my twinkle starts to beam
And leave everyone behind to sit and scheme
So grab your pen and show and tell
Hold up, my heads startin to swell
Migraines again from the same constant noise
Quell the ploys, take me back to girls and boys
Young and open-minded, never trying to hide it
It’s alright to be weak, have a moment of grief
Don’t let it turn you to a thief, man up and be chief
Accept what you can’t and do what you can
To accomplish the former by creatin a plan
Can’t stop when I start and constantly makin turns
Running tracks around the dog box while I earn
Your bones inside so stay in and hide
Or you’ll fall in my moat, once again I hate to gloat
But your noise be my pit crew you given me fuel
So I burn through tracks and accept all duels
Makin ya’ll thirsty, who’s got the mule
I put weight on your back til I hear it crack
Then force you to listen to yourself and say ‘wack’
While layin in the dry sand and dust, creativity becomes a must
To get on your feet, must I repeat
Catch it again or are the tricks slidin by ya?
Swag turned on, now let me take you higha
Not the Illusionist, but I play with fya
Learned the 8 rules, know how to be a fighta
Can levitate one back to my height
And drop them down with a hand sleight
I’m mean, not fictitious plus I spit that vicious
Don’t come from the N.O. but I still get that dough
Showin props throughout, without a doubt
Ya’ll have motivated me during droughts
Finished for now, end it with the shout

Let me know what you think! Brewin up more

Audio Dope 2

Spitta get this whole shit jumpin like
Kangaroo pouch Louis Vuitton
The small things keep me different from these fools
Pull my draw strings
Keep my sweats off of my shoes
I'm a dawg mang keep my paws clean
I ain't fuckin with you at all
Lames is your whole set
Please don't recognize ya'll
Independent acrobatic
Make that loo sommersault
Rememberin my license and restrictions in my moms car
Came a long way
But I don't got time to be
Sittin at the dock of the bay
Wastin every second
Money can be made out a rhyme
I can do it on the dime
Kick the shit out the beat until it die
Call CSI
I got um runnin scared tryna catch up
57 heinz gregory the dance legend
Make music I'm steppin out
At a major event
Best dressed in attendance
And I never left the house

[Chorus:]
Right back at it
Like the Pilot get the pot
We can get it crackin in here
Audio Dope
We track traffickin
And they askin for mo is you back again?
And I ain't talking bout practice no mo.
When it's game time show me to the stove
Audio dope
Yea nigga we track traffickin
They askin for mo is you back again?

Greens rolled under the gazzibo
Lemonade level vodka
Badgamon playin Keno
Musical Mafia
Loaded bases bring my Team home I'm the great bambino
Roulette wheels in the casino
Fat max scammin off the top
But that's the game we in
What you gone do about it huh?
Sacrifice and hit the independent prolly not?
They not like me.
That's why they don't like me
Me I'm like Lee
In my trilla in between
Scenes got the feature girl from the video full of weed
Break your foot tryna kick it like I kick it
Kill yourself tryna live how I'm livin
SPITTA

[Chorus:]
Right back at it
Like the Pilot get the pot
We can get it crackin in here
Audio Dope
We track traffickin
And they askin for mo is you back again?
And I ain't talking bout practice no mo.
When it's game time show me to the stove
Audio dope
Yea nigga we track traffickin
They askin for mo is you back again?

(All around the world the same song
Cali buzz strong it's that love phase gone
So high tell my neighbors thought I moved out
Because your boy stays gone
Now tell me that I ain't got it and then keep a straight face punk!)