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Black Moon - The Kings of Hip Hop - I Got Cha Opin
The Kings of Hip Hop
Disc 1
01. Mister Magic (single version)
02. Skin Tight (single version)
03. Ain’t No Half Steppin’
04. The Message From the Soul Sisters, Parts 1 & 2
05. Love Ballad
06. Sweet Thing (album version)
07. I Put a Spell on You
08. Q (album version)
09. We the People Who Are Darker Than Blue
10. Walkin’ in the Sun
11. Try a Little Tenderness
12. In the Midnight Hour
13. Bring It on Home to Me
14. Men Are Getting Scarce
15. Don’t Explain (album version)
Disc 2
01. THINGTRO
02. Sound Bwoy Burreill
03. I Got Cha Opin
04. Fakin Jax
05. The Bizness
06. Skinz
07. SH.FE.MC’s
08. Mic Checka (remix)
09. Brooklyn Zoo
10. Shimmy, Shimmy Ya
11. Microphone Fiend (album version)
12. Get on Down
13. Punks Jump Up to Get Beat Down
14. Fakin’ the Funk
15. A Chorus Line 2000 (remix)
16. Peace Is Not the Word to Play
17. Set It Off
Don't front
Don't front
Don't front
Don't front
Don't front
Don't front
Don't front
Don't front
When I get bent I must represent, no question
Get up a dime spot and then I'm off to the dread section
Roots hit me off lovely
Coming out the spot I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me
I'm easing on the Glock like, "What up, hop"
Buck's pulling out on cops cause I want free Glocks
What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade
Hitting them all, hand guns and hand grenades
Unreasonable the man that's wanted for murder
Got your block locked down, so don't come any further
In my clip is a .22 dum-dum
Oh yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum
You know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it
I'm like the short and fly so I'mma still get paid, I don't sweat it
I'm every MC's nightmare manifesting
A little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in
This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne
Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid
Rest in peace to my niggas in the East
And all the real niggas that was shot by beast
Around the way all we do is spark mad ism
Ladies be like, "Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him"
But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight
So I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face
Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid
'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid
Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like whatever shit
On the real, gettin played, what, I never did
'Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real niggas
The field niggas get the muthafuckin ill triggers
Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb
And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb
I never got caught by a undercover DT
Nah chill AT&T can't see me
You grab mics from the ones I left broken
Kid, don't front, you know I got you open
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid
Late at night I catch a buzz, then I write
The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight
And be wanting to battle like every five minutes
But I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished
Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame
You faggot ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine
I hit your brain and you felt the pain, maintain
When it comes to a battle you know the Buck reigns
I overthrow the flow, niggas be like, "Yo, how'd you do that?"
Bitches be like "Yo who that, you're all that, yo, true that"
Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it
I used to make money, now I just take it
I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete
Bucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet
I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects
Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx
Buck to your head, now die is my slogan
Don't front, you know I got you open
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open, kid
Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid
Yo stop frontin' you know I got you open, kid