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Friday, 20 October 2017
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Listen Lagu Mandar - Tomane Pole


Where'd You Go (Mighty Mighty Bosstones)

Checked the clock when I got home
And realized I was alone
Sat for hours by the window
Wonderin' where did you go?
Couldn't eat or sleep at all
Took the pictures off the wall
Paced the place as time moves slow
And I'm wondering where did you go?
Where'd you go? Where'd you go?
I wanna know

Lit a cigarette I couldn't smoke
Wound the clock until it broke
Went to bed then took a shower
Stared at TV for an hour
Did the dishes, made the bed
Read a book I've never read
Any minute you will show
And I'm wondering where did you go?
Where'd you go? Where'd you go?
I wanna know

Where did you go?
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
Where did you go?

And played a tape I couldn't hear
Emptiness began to grow
and I'm wondering where did you go?
Watched the sun come up from the back stairs
Thought about the last few years
I lost control, I screamed, I cried
I punched a pole and went inside

Packed my things called a friend
Wished this emptiness would end
Wrote a note then tore it up
Poured the beer into a cup
Sat on the couch, drank it slow
Wondering where did you go?
I realized I couldn't stay
Grabbed my things and I went away
Where'd you go? Where'd you go?
I wanna know!

Candy Coated (Crazy Town)

Now can you hear the cling-clang of my ball and chain gang?
The sound of heavy metal that tastes like cellophone
Collapsing every vein like umbrellas in heavy rain
My passion is pain
I do dirt to bury shame
I'm victimized an instituion's no solution
A place where you're defenseless and guilt's the prosecution
Where necks are bound into slipknots of shallow souls
Walking narrow roads to be hung frok gallows poles
Nobody knows me success has exposed me
To narrow-minded souls with goals to overthrow me
Suppose that i chose to live my life low-key
Would you act like you could teach
When there is nothing you can show me
Don't you understand i'm the head of the class
A straight - A student not regretting the past

You see i'm ok now but i dont think it will last
Because reality is something i can't seem to grasp
Candy-coated pain is like a ball and chain
Pulling me closer to death, i feel closer to death now
Candy-coated pain is like a ball and chain
We only dig deeper by running away

It's deeper than what it looks like
We never got an equal shot so we took mics
Packed the candy-coated pain in the first pipe
That said my name and the candy-coated pain is the worst type
You got it nice my every day is like your worst night
The world is digging in my wounds screaming out i bet it hurts right?
But it hurts more i got regrets but
i'm glad i took the prize behind the fisrt door
What's the hurt for?
Everybody hungers peace but they thirst war
It's crazy i'm not complaining because i probably would have tried better
And if the people that i trusted weren't lie tellers
So keep your candy-coated pain to make the vibe better
Now all the songs i'm writing sound like suicide letters

[Repeat CHORUS]

Guilty or innocent whatever pick the verdict
Sometimes a perfect picture's not so perfect
Thought i could reverse the mixture it isn't worth it
Because my life seems to work no matter how bad curse it
I only know a little but i feel so much
The pain brings me down but it reveals the rush
See i got my arms up just to shield the dust
Because i lust for the things i can't seem to touch
Arrest me if i follow you
You congest me i'm so hollow from your gift
You infect me when i cut you
Still the same still insane
I think i love you
(But ** you)

[Repeat CHORUS]

Fishing In The Morning (Dar Williams)

Let's go fishing in the morning, just like we've always gone. You can come inside and wake me up,
We'll pack and leave by dawn. We will pack and leave by dawn.

And you'll say I'll hear something, and I'll say never you mind,
It's just our two poles knocking in the back seat,
And your truck is doing fine today, and everything is fine.

And your truck will climb up slowly, and we'll see how far we've gone,
And the hills will stretch before us
They are rolling on and on, they are rolling on and on.

And the fish will look up at our boat, with envy and with fear,
Because we will live forever, and our days are slow and dear,
And our days are slow and dear.

And we'll go fishing in the morning, even though we've never gone,
We're two fishing poles in the backseat,
We're the rolling on and on, we're the rolling on and on.

Pussy**Kid And Hoe**Play (Payback Is A Mutha **er) (JT Money)

featuring Bustdown*

* credited to Luke as it appeared on his album of the aforementioned title

Intro: Luke

Yo it's a **ed up thing! I gotta bring Kid N' Play on this mother**in'
album here two pussy punk**niggas yo check this out what I'ma do
is I'ma go get last year's rookie of the year JT Money of Poison Clan
this year's rookie of the year, Bustdown - yo, Bustdown, kick some of
that West Bank shit on these ** niggas!!

Verse 1: Bustdown

Well, I'm first up as a rhyme conveyor
Luke Records in the house for the payback, player
Kid N' Play can suck a dick! Get me a mic and a 40
And let a real nigga wreck shit
To me you're walking on a tightrope. Instead of tryin'
To be real, you're steady sweatin' them white folks
Keep runnin' your big mouth, but if you come to my hood,
You'll get your asshole whipped out!
Then I'ma play you to the back seat
'Cause I'm runnin' more game than a track meet athlete
As if you didn't know, huh, you're dealing
With a West Bank dicksman, hoe
But anyway, I got a rhyme to deliver
Get your draws out your ass, quit frontin', my nigga
'Cause if you don't, well you'll keep gettin dissed on
And if I see you at a show and you're slippin', you're gettin' pissed on!

Chorus (4x):
[What about Kid N' Play?]

Verse 2: JT Money

Now for starters, with Kids I don't Play
'Cause y'all some **-ass, punk-ass, coochie niggas anyway
JT i the house, niggas, check it
Tryin' to diss my nigga Luke to sell your wack record?
Let me talk about the Kid. I remember
Some ol' coochie-nigga shit you did
When we was up in New York
You was followin' Luke, talkin' 'bout, "We gotta talk!"
On that man's dick, got your**wide
Open and you're talkin' that bullshit
Both movies, I boo 'em, 'cause you had hoes,
But you wasn't stickin' pipe to 'em
Thought they was fantastic. But through the
Whole **in' movie, Kid was gettin' his**kicked
And 'bout that other nigga Play - He needs to
Get dissed 'cause he's a punk nigga anyway
Be 'round here kissin' hoes, while I'm dissin' hoes
And stabbin 'em with fishin' poles
You need to try to lay pipe in 'em
Oh, I forgot - punks don't like women
Now you're tryin' to diss somebody
At Jack the Rapper, you was hangin' 'round Luke's parties
Now you're outta gas, with two mother**in'
Punk-haters on yo' ass, JT and Bustdown
Now let's see you hoe niggas get tough now
Get the rubbers out your ass, dick-suckers!
...and ** them pussy mother**ers.


Verse 3: Bustdown

Now let me put my boy Kid in his place
With them wick-wack rhymes soundin' like Rob Base!
'Cause if I have to come tag that ass,
I'ma max, wax, tax and drag that ass!
I get sharp like a ice pick
I'm on a hype tip, holdin' mic tight as a vice grip
You couldn't deal with the concept
I'm collected and calm, but on the mike I'm a bomb threat
So mother**ers get real
I got a heart like gold and a dick like steel
You wanna diss, punk? Please!
You got a flat top thicker than commodity cheese!
Luke left it up to me and JT
To take it from the bottom to the T-O-P
I seen your second House Party; it figures:
Two House Parties for two house-ass niggas!

Outro: Luke

Two house mother**in' niggas. Do y'all niggas know what a house
nigga is? A house nigga is a nigga who work in the house. Who cleans
the master's ass, who cleans behind the master, who wash the master's
ass. Y'all house niggas. I'ma feel niggas, we feel niggas here in Miami.
That's why y'all niggas can't understand us, y'all **-niggas talkin' too
much shit, y'all niggas better watch what you sayin' 'cause y'all **-
niggas, y'all don't know, y'all get **ed up here. Yo, check this out -
Miami is closed to y'all niggas. Y'all barred. Y'all can't come here no
more, **-niggas. Y'all can't sell no more records here. And if all real
niggas in the world is real like us, y'all don't buy them **-niggas' shit
no more. 'Cause they ain't shit. Pussy punk-ass niggas.

Somethin' 4 Tha Mood (DJ Quik)

[DJ Quik]
This one goes out to my niggas
Cus we be havin to deal with these punk**bitches
Check this out

Hey bitch you remember me
It's mista DJ Quik from the Westside of the Tree
And you met me at 2000 where I'm brownin
That's where me and the PPC were just clownin
Doin what we had to do to get by
No money in my pocket but I was still fly
Curled to my neck but I got respect
And now I stack fat sacks and ride around in a Lex
And oh my bitch how you changed
I see you rubbin all on my dick and it's feelin kinda strange
Cus then you wouldn't even walk me around the block
But now your tryin to throw me that toe up cock
I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole
I gots to keep the P in it baby, muthaf**k you hoes
But open up wide if you given up head
Because, close mouths don't get fed
I'm talking to punk ass, trick ass, nuttin**bitches
What's the name of your perfume �Vicious�?
Hoes aint shit, aint gon' be, aint never will be
And I'ma make you feel bad that you f**ked me
So fast-forward tricks this is strictly for my dogs
Ballin like a muthaf**ka ragtop hogs
And El Cos keep rollin to this gangsta shit
And when I'm feelin like being bothered with you bitches
I'm givin ya..

Somethin 4 tha mood
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap?
(I'm givin ya.. )
Somethin 4 tha mood
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin (ya know)
What about my bitch on my lap?

[DJ Quik]
Now it's 5:15 and I'm thinking about niggas Playa Hamm
Mr. Shabby Bleu and Big Jam
Hamm's at Gina's so I hit him on my mobile
87 Sprint him so you know I gots to flow
Yo what's up nigga

[Playa Hamm]
Yo same ol' playa
Got some tendas, meet me over at Gina's a little later
Hook it up mobbin through with D and a couple of half G's
So is you down for the skeaze?

[DJ Quik]
I'm on my way
Now the bitches at Gina's they all wanna see me
Put my telephone down for the LAPD
They passed me, I pass them, and they didn't even trip
Now I'm doin 55 over the Arlington Dip
In my Lex-o rollin got me feelin superior
With the funky white pearl and black leather interior
My niggas in my truck, we aint givin a f**k
We carried a very face pace to 42nd place

Snoop Dogg blew it and headed back to the strip
In the left hand turnin lane niggas steppin on trick
Bust a right on Normande, the bitches blow for me
But I don't pay �em no mind cus they come second to my homies
Hit the spot and bail but I don't step in the mud
Walk up in the living room where it's smellin like bud
In the kitchen where it aint no drinks but a gang a food
Ahh, let me pop the trunk cus I bought a little..

Somethin 4 tha mood (Yeah)
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap?
(I'm givin ya.. )
Somethin 4 tha mood (Ya know)
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap?

[DJ Quik]
Now I dips to the studio to listen to the hits
2nd II None workin on some brand new shit
And it's tighter that a muthaf**ka got that swang
While Big J try to take a nigga straight to Beighjing
But I pass on the bud, I mash on the brew
Genuine Draft for my muthaf**kin crew
Tashe's chillin, China just trippin
Chris engineering and Bacon and George sippin
So listenin to this track makes you understand
Why niggas still can't f**k with the one-man band
Got my dark lokes clean with the P on my crown
And my black leather trench to the muthaf**kin grown
And I'm faded, knowin I don't wanna drive drunk
In case I get jacked got my shit in the trunk
Now I might have been swerving but I made it to the tent
Just another day in the life of Quik
I'm givin ya..

Somethin 4 tha mood
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap?
(I'm givin ya.. )
Somethin 4 tha mood
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap?
(And you know I got)
Somethin 4 tha mood
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap?
(I'm givin ya.. )
Somethin 4 tha mood (Ya know baby)
Somethin to get you in the groove
So sip that cognac at get back
Cus that's just what I'm doin
What about my bitch on my lap? (And we up out)

All Jacked Up (Gretchen Wilson)


Well, five of the PM rolls around
There's a little old joint outside of town
I only got time for a couple of beers
And a juke box song ringing in my ears
The next you know the bartender's pouring
Shots are flowing, got me stoning
All I really know is that I should be going
but I'm soaking up the moment

I'm all jacked up, all jacked up
Don't believe I've ever had this much
One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Time sure flies when you're all jacked up

It was getting mighty close to nine o'clock
What the hell I'll have one more shot
Then I winked at a boy at the end of the bar
Guess I mighta musta gone a little too far
Cause a big ol' girl walked outta the blue
10 foot 2 with a bad attitude
Stepped right up and knocked out my tooth
I guess I had it coming I deserved the due

'Cause I was all jacked up, all jacked up
Don't believe I've ever had this much
One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't start no stuff when you're all jacked up

Don't have to go home but you can't stay here
That's what they said when I got my last beer
Oh my God, it's 2 o'clock,
I can't find my keys and my truck's locked

So I grabbed a tire tool and I broke my window
Hurt my elbow, got me in though
Two foot later backed into the light pole
All the town folk got a good show

All jacked up, all jacked up
Don't believe I've ever had this much
One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't drive your truck when you're all jacked up

Jacked up
(all jacked up, all jacked up)

One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't start no stuff when you're all jacked up

One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't drive your car
Don't start no stuff in no bar
Hell I wouldn't tell anybody where you are
When you're all jacked up

All jacked up
All jacked up
All jacked up

Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah
Yay yeah


Oi Te Poisid (Vennaskond)

Laulgem poisid, praegu kõige kallimast-
väiksest linnast, meie armsast Tallinnast.
Ehkki hallid tema paesed teed,
ikka head meile need.
Kui sa hulgud mööda kitsast taänavat,
neiu silmad sulle vastu säravad.
Oi te poisid , kus küll põled rind,
neiu, ma ei jäta sind!
Kui sul leitud pole õiget kallimat,
vaata ringi meie armsas Tallinnas.
Stroomi rannas kiigub kõrge kiik,
laulab seal tüdruk viit.
Lööme õhtul saapad hästi klantsima
ja siis Kadriorgu lähme tantsima.
Oi te poisid, kuis küll põleb rind,
neiu, ma ei jäta sind!
Kes siit ükskord leiab hella kallima,
see ei lahku enam iial Tallinnast.
Loome kodu kõrge kalda peal -
kostab seal laste naer.
Pilgub merelt meile kauge majakas,
hüüab kaunist õnne valge kajakas.
Oi te poisid, kuis küll põleb rind,
neiu, ma ei jäta, ma ei jäta,
neiu ma ei jäta sind!

Cultivate (Mudvayne)

Got the disease in my mind that chaos runs through in you
Guilty toys for your insides
Just plead and I’ll conduct you
Believe in me, I’m the juice
Recieve from me the hand of truth
In still your trust I’ll take you there
I penetrate and run through
Feel it so warm
Branded forearm
Synthetic high that drains you
Accelerated poles
Blood rush through
Branded forearm
Mudvayne returned
Inner mutiny lost tranquility
Broken people fixed again plumming christened with disorder
? ? took a spell to possess you
You embrace me for the high
Unfocused black swells as you die
Inner icon solicits sympathy
Depated being struggles so desperatly
Im so outside myself
Breathless body betrays my cry for help
Rest in earth,
Rest in peace
Await rebirth as I roll up my sleeve feel
Roll up my **in sleeve
It so warm
Branded forearm
Masticate you as I cultivate through
You’re life I loathe,
Scrambled being your impressions leaking
Sins been bastoned in you
Do what I do just to see through you
Your life is death now
Consequenses been plowed under earth
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
Want you dead so much

Da Story (Noreaga)

featuring Maze

It was four in the mornin got a call on the cell
What the hell you niggaz just shot at?
Yo they missed her blazed most fired pistols
Now it's our turn to play calypsos
Yo me and you meet me by the two
A war goin on that's involvin the crews
Bring both your arms Rel and Moose down in St. John's
I wish my nigga was home the black Fonz
Yo we rock charms as big as Vegas
Different crews of different size try to player hate us
Top of the league like Bulls and y'all cats is Lakers
Trash since Magic left, but he was the greatest
Aiyyo we call Shan, yo Shan peace God
You and Maze got the info?
Them cats that tried to shoot Moose's hitmen yo?
A nigga named Ricky, from the Bronx, cold wop city
Thugged out, shoot his gat mad sickly
I laid low, called Big Pun and Fat Joe
Them niggaz my click, we three amigos -- they said
that they knew the cat, exactly where he live at
And when I get there, just blaze God and don't look back
Cause Ricky got no kids and no wifey
So when I get there God it's like more than likely
There's Ricky like Ricardo, plus Renaldo
So when I get there, take the coat, plus the cargo, what?

Chorus: Maze

We strong-arm, blazin firearm long kong
When the beef come niggaz storm on
(repeat 2X)

Yo like a day pass, I'm bandana'd up with a mask
Just shot up the whole spot, crib to grass
Pissed in his toilet, on his walls, in his halls
Cut Ricky from his neck to his balls
Anyone can bust a gun and stab a nigga is real
Cause you gotta have the guts for the way that it feels
Word got back, them niggaz said Ricky a rat
All that, coke we took yea we cooked the crack
The police don't really want us, they want the coke back
It's impossible, just ask the word by the hospital
Across from the mall right in Hoffman Park
It's in tennis bags, guarded by a hundred Iraqs
Yo we swerve low, beside the Jake, there go, Roberto
The brother of Ricky, he 'posed to be wild, it's gettin deep
How he knew where I'm at, how he knew how I eat?
The fools pulled out, no doubt, Roberto grabbed the sick ?
We hit the spot, then we hopped in the whips
Now it's a chase on the highway, the L-I-E's
Yo them fools ?, niggaz drive by me
Iraq banner, not he, ? aqui


Aiyyo we just crashed into the pole, now we roll
another Dutchie, calm down and stroll
on foot, my whole click, got control
of the whole output, now we roll
Yo any nigga be a man for a minute y'know
Then he, turn around once he know you got dough
It's like a cycle, that read psycho, man in the mirror
like Michael, my whole click down to snipe you
Since then, Roberto had beef, with melanin men
Every nigga he hate, was darker than him
Older niggaz than him, stay buggin on him
Tellin him he weak, he ain't touch my skin
But once again CNN prevail, tho-rough
Cause even the G-est don't really understand Hell
I did this, from Iraq, to livin the cell
So y'all niggaz know, what? Meet you back in Hell what?

Chorus 2X

Sunshine In The O (3X Krazy)

(Mike Marshall)
Just pimps and ho's and playas
No time for player haters
(Ph balanced) Just pimps and ho's and players
Just players, players
Sucker free from player haters

(Keek tha Sneek)
It be going down in the town on a Friday afternoon
I'm in that L-Co, drinking strawberry hills boones
And I'm thinking to myself, I ain't near perved
It takes henn dogg and some herb just to make me swerve
I picked up T-Funk, fat blunt in the ear lobe
It spin likes a globe, I stick it in while I'm talking on my mobe
To a freak of the week who be scheming
But she ain't knowing me and funk is down for the tag teaming
Hooked it up for later on, hung up the phone,
fired up the blunt slapped the heater on, we was on
And like always, fools to the left, player hating
So I got ho intersection waiting while that L-Co-atin
Came out swinging sideways, it was all so sweet
Then threw the peace sign up, it was G's on the streets
Out the six duece, seen orange man and eastwood
Eyes red, on the front porch smoked in the hood
Got back on the mobile, started dialing up some mo digits
Cause I knew they was bugging, I seen that purple civic
Back on the strip, fresh paint, rally's shining
Rewinding the album called -flowautomatic nine
Deciding should I go get another sack
I'm in a Co, with ten in a lark, so we riding back to back
As I start shake and bake, earth like a quake, it ain't Sunday
I ain't hitting the lake, five-oh jacking fool, that's a mistake
I'm just going to stick to the strip and drink that Carlo Rossi Rhine
In the O-A-K, where we chill and parlay in the sunshine.

(Singing- Mike Marshall)
In the sunshine, just pimps and ho's and playas

(2 X's)
Breaking ho's, flashing gold, riding around in the sunshine
Just pimp's and ho's and playas

I woke up in the morning, ready for another day
In the O-A-K, that's where we let the Gat spray
Each and everyday on the foothill strip drinking tanqueray
Smoking on a twomp sack of that bomb, I gotta stay calm
The sun is beaming like its ho bucking season
Ho's want to see me cause I'm like nike down looking breezy
But I can't stop for no ho mang
All they wanna do is hop In the lexus sitting on gold thangs with the cocaine
White paint trimmed in gold, stopped in the liquor store so I could a cold four-o
Now I'm audi five to next light, spaced out like midnight
My game is never lazy, when I'm off that act crazy
Tricks to the left, trick s to the right,
tricks in daisy dukes, I'm off that crazy juice uhhh
I'm on the foothill strip, bumper to bumper
Suckers pass through with they crew wish and they wonder
If the can have a town like mines
The O-A-K, where we chill and parlay in the Sunshine

(singing- Mike Marshall)
In the sunshine, Just pimps and hoes and playas

(2 X's)
Breaking ho's, flashing gold, riding around in the sunshine
Just pimp's and ho's and playas

Once again, it's just another liquor store mission,
stick-a-ho mission, never coochie kissing
Cause sacks rolled up and tucked got ya fellas stuck (off what)
That ole green rocker spliff had me tore up
I throw up, I hope I don't because today I'm just kicking back
Moet and hamps, dough in the pants, just parlay in slacks
there are major highsiders in the O,
these ho's plot my dough and many bro's want to pick my fro
really doe, a sunny day, I'm playing for keeps
no need for a rental, a bicycles cool, because my game is deep
a freak peep, and looked sweet by the lakeside
she was going to her friends to go on a bike ride
so we went , we rode, she bent my pole,
met her a minute ago now this heffer I can't control
Is it because my billboard flicks, tone got the real long crisps
Three times crazy (man I know this)
Ager I feel ya, but some others don't
I'm bippin fools off the weed smoke, selling they gats for C-notes
And then I hit the strip and parked the bike by the curb
Regal was coming to snatch me, Man I was kind of happy, word
This 24 is like one of a kind,
in the O-A-K where chill and parlay in the sunshine

(Mike Marshall)
And I do what I feel, and I do what I feel, when I do it

(2 X's)
Breaking ho's, flashing gold, riding around in the sunshine


Ianasanna to mamba sumombal, dao parikking apa maidi duai bandi "pandeng mawarra''

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