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Pure Urban Essentials 2
Disc 1
01. Crazy in Love
02. Turn Me On
03. 50/50
04. Paradise
05. I’m Glad
06. Beautiful
07. Into You
08. All Over
09. Girlfriend
10. Can’t Nobody
11. Get Down
12. Ching Ching (Lovin’ You Still)
13. U Know What’s Up
14. Don’t Know What to Tell Ya
15. Waterfalls
16. Looking for Love
17. Laundromat
18. Say Yeah
19. Heard It All Before
20. Bootylicious
Disc 2
01. Like Glue
02. Bounce Along
03. Flip Reverse
04. Ain’t What You Do
05. Jumpin’
06. Shake (What Ya Mamma Gave Ya)
07. Broken Silence
08. Got Your Money
09. Rock the Party
10. Take You Home
11. Turn It Up (remix) / Fire It Up
12. Oh No
13. Ring Ring Ring (Ha Ha Hey)
14. Scenario
15. Boogie 2nite
16. Raw
17. Rise
18. Superwoman, Part II (remix)
19. We Pop
20. I Feel for You
(Hook: woman)
We pop, we brawl, gettin' money til the day we fall
We pop, we brawl, gettin' money til the day we fall

(RZA)
Double barrel shotgun (blaow), pop son
I told nigga, just not run
I saw him on 205th in Fordham
This dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him (Wu!)
I blown ya, you need a blood donor
My bitch ghetto, like Florida and Laronia (girl)
Laundry mat hoes, who want clothes?
I flow checks, one followed by six o's (six o's)
I got hoes, in codes, in different areas
Four ton whips that's sittin' on interiors
The bass shake in the club like it's earthquakin'
I cock arm, pass the bomb, like Troy Aikman (Aikman)
Play the basement like Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson
You miserable, you get kidnapped by Kathy Bason
Thrown to the dungeon, for your spongin'
Of Wu Killa Bee, what's your total malfunction?

(Chorus: ShaCronz & ODB (Freemurda))
We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we fall (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my four (my four)
Throw shots through your bedroom door (bedroom door)
From the P's, to the morgue, cop Louie all the way to my drawers (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get money til the way we fall

(ShaCronz)
Come on, let's cut the crap, money
I've been gettin' this rap money
Crack money, stack money, I'm tryin' to get that Shaq money
That Mike Tyson, Michael Jordan, Michael Jack' money
Five hundred mill' and better, dog, yeah, now that's money
Act funny, ya'll make me laugh (haha)
Frontin' like you tough, you softer than a baby's ass
These lazy ass labels -- fuck you! Pay me cash
My crazy path promoted me into a Mercedes class

(Chorus)

(Freemurda)
Yeah., all ya'll can see is the back of my jersey
Blowin' in the wind, goin' back to Jersey
Off to Brooklyn, left you back in Jersey
I was doin' a buck 90 like a throwback jersey
Shame on a Nigga, take it back to Dirty
Run, game on a nigga, I'll be back in thirty
Seconds, got the world's greatest record
And that money I'mma spend it like your greatest record
This Division, all the ladies respect it
Disrespect it and the eighty'll check it
It ain't hard to see how ya'll ignorin' the steel
Niggas that I clap, lookin' for me still
Til they look like they came out of George Foreman grill
Thoughts are stolen on Free, must be on them crills
Plus my, team gon' be holdin' like forty mill'
Thoughts are rollin' on E., must be on those pills

(Chorus)

(Hook 2X)