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Another "Whats in your CD player" thread

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posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 05:32 PM
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Shutda****up, by


Soulfly




posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 06:15 PM
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GZA - Gold

Yo, the fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

I'm deep down in the back streets - in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
Like the crashin of Dow Jones stock
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil's
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I'm in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his #ing fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the
kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out

No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clip that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

Fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

It's mandatory that
I supply all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a farm
to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates and other niggaz
plant bombs til the smoke from the blast becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, he's gun sick
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and extort
some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my nigga
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
And still organized his crime and drug wars

Fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clips that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

The peers that come is tight enough
There is no niggaz that's #in up
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold, to YOU



posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 06:23 PM
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Blind Guardian - A Twist in the Myth



posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 06:27 PM
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tool - vicarious



posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 06:56 PM
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Basically, can't # with me

[Verse One:]

I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain
Let's go inside my astral plane
Find out my mental's based on instrumental
records hey, so I can write monumental
Methods, I'm not the King
But niggaz is decaf I stick em for the CREAM
check it, just how deep can # get
Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it
In your Cross Colour, clothes you've crossed over
Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross
Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side
And I'm the dark side of the Force
Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic, and comin for the head piece protect it
# it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus
Bustin at me bruh, now bust it
Styles, I gets buckwild
Method Man on some #, pullin niggaz files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin Miss Daisy
Out her #in mind now I got mine I'm Swayze

[Chorus:]

Is it real son, is it really real son
Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really real

[Interlude: Booster]

And when I was a lil stereo (stereo)
I listened to some champion (champion)
I always wondered (wondered)
Will now I be the numba one? (Tical! hahaha)
Now you listen to de gargon (Gargon!)
And de gargon summary
And any man dat come test me (test me)
Me gwanna lick out dem brains (it's like that)

[Verse Two:]

Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope
the only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke
off the set comin to your projects
Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise
Comin from a vet on some old Vietnam #
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb #
And it's gonna get even worse word to God
It's the Wu comin through sickin niggaz for they garments
Movin on your left, southpaw em it's the Meth
Came to represent and carve my name in your chest
You can come test realize you're no contest
Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West
Quick on the draw with my hands on the four
nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
Check it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper
Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin 90 proof
Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw
When you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw
I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns
Enough to give my chest hairs a perm
I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'

What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style
Word up we be hazardous *car crashing* *horn passing me*
Northern spicy brown mustard hoes
We have to stick you
[horn sound of car racing by]

[Chorus]

[Outro:]

I'll #in, I'll #in cut your kneecaps off
and make you kneel in some staircase piss

I'll #in, cut your eyelids off
and feed you nuthin but sleepin pills

You mother#ers
(So??) So # the hoe
# the hoe

(Look at this nigga, this mother#in...)



posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 07:07 PM
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Wu-Tang Clan - Triumph

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
What y'all thought y'all wasn't gon' see me?
I'm the Osirus of this #
Wu-Tang is here forever, mother#er
It's like this ninety-seven
Aight my niggaz and my niggarettes
Let's do it like this
I'ma rub your ass in the moonshine
Let's take it back to seventy-nine

[Inspectah Deck]
I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies
and hypothesis can't define how I be droppin these
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits
tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect you, through the future see millenium
Killa B's sold fifty gold sixty platinum
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block

[Method Man]
As the world turns, I spread like germs
Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standin firm
on foreign land, jump the gun out the fryin pan, into the fire
Transform into the Ghostrider, a six-pack
and +A Streetcar Named Desire+, who got my back?
In the line of fire holdin back, what?
My peoples if you with me where the # you at?
Niggaz is strapped, and they tryin to twist my beer cap
It's court adjourned, for the bad seed from bad sperm
Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm, what the blood
clot, we smoke pot, and blow spots
You wanna think twice, I think not
The Iron Lung ain't got ta tell you where it's coming from
Guns of Navarone, tearing up your battle zone
Rip through your slums

[Cappadonna]
I twist darts from the heart, tried and true
Loop my voice on the LP, martini on the slang rocks
Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talkin
Tell your story walkin
Take cover kid, what? Run for your brother, kid
Run for your team, and your six camp rhyme groupies
So I can squeeze with the advantage, and get wasted
My deadly notes reigns supreme
Your fort is basic compared to mine
Domino effect, arts and crafts
Paragraphs contain cyanide
Take a free ride on my dart, I got the fashion
catalogues for all y'all to all praise to the Gods

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
The saga continues
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang

[U-God]
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet
The thrill of victory, the agony, defeat
We crush slow, flamin deluxe slow
For, judgment day cometh, conquer, it's war
Allow us to escape, hell glow spinning bomb
Pocket full of shells out the sky, Golden Arms
Tune spit the #ty Mortal Kombat sound
The fateful step make, the blood stain the ground
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem
Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthetics
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas
My music Sicily, rich California smell
An axekiller adventure, paint a picture well
I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippin on ginseng
Righteous wax chaperone, rotating ring king

[RZA]
Watch for the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher-Punks couldn't hold us
A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga was sober
Perpendicular to the square, we stand bold like Flare
Escape from your Dragon's Lair, in particular
My beats travel like a vortex, through your spine
to the top of your cerebrum cortex
Make you feel like you bust a nut from raw sex
Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream
now terminal, like Grand Central Station
Program fat baselines, on Novation
Getting drunk like a #, I'm duckin five-year probation

[GZA]
War of the masses, the outcome, disastrous
Many of the victim family save they ashes
A million names on walls engraved in plaques
Those who went back, received penalties for the axe
Another heart is torn as close ones mourn
Those who stray, niggaz get slayed on the song

[Masta Killa]
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds
and leaks sounds that's heard
ninety-three million miles away from came one
to represent the Nation, this is a gathering
of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage
The high chief Jamel-I-Reef take the stage
Light is provided through sparks of energy
from the mind that travels in rhyme form
Givin sight to the blind
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum
Death only one can save self from
This relentless attack of the track spares none

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo! Yo! Yo, # that, look at all these crab niggaz laid back
Lampin like them gray and black Puma's on my man's rack
Codeine was forced in your drink
You had a Navy Green salamander fiend, bitches never heard you scream
You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb
Blowin like Shalamar in eighty-one
Sound convincin, thousand dollar court by convention
Hands, like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the # up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
it's me, black nobled you Ali
Came in threes we like the Genovese, is that so?
Caesar needs the greens, it's Earth
Ninety-three million miles from the first
Rough turbulence, the waveburst, split the megahertz

[Raekwon]
Aiyyo that's amazing, gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul hawk
Connect thoughts to make my manchild walk
Swift notarizer, Wu-Tang, all up in the high-riser
New York Yank' visor world tranquilizer
Just a dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives
While, my pen blow lines ferocious
Mediterranean, see y'all, the number one draft pick
Tear down the beat God, then delegate the God to see God
The swift chancellor, flex, the white-gold tarantula
Track truck diesel, play the weed God, substantiala
Max mostly, undivided, then slide in, sickenin
Guaranteed, made em jump like Rod Strickland



posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 07:57 PM
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posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 10:32 PM
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Red Hot Chili Peppers



Otherside


[edit on 13-12-2006 by 1Crisis]



posted on Dec, 13 2006 @ 11:14 PM
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GZA - Living In The World Today

[Yo check it]

Well if you livin in the world today
You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggaz that front we don't handle em
So we blast em, alright, well OK

Well if you like the way it sound then clap man
And if the women love it too well then raise your hands
But only raise your hands if you're Sure
Punk niggaz shatter like a glass jaw, break it

My rhyme gross weight vehicle combination
was too heavy for the Chevy's is chased out the station
Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it
gassed up, #in with some regular unleaded #
Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that
bind-in, X marks the spot on the scope
Heavily armed military is necessary, it's a gamble
MC's bet they best at every
Powerful parable ditties might harm
if tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs
Flashbacks to the Duel of the Iron Mic
Look out for these fatal flying spikes, of massive
sleep-holds, put strangle on commercial angle
Microphone cords tangled from being Star Spangled
Now who could ever say they heard of this?
My mother#in style is mad murderous

Well if you like the way it sound then clap man
And if the women love it too well then raise your hands
But only raise your hands if you're Sure
Punk niggaz shatter like a glass jaw, yeah

Well if you livin in the world today
You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggaz that front we don't handle em
So we blast em, alright, well OK

Well what you know about MCin?
Yo, I know a lot
Well can you demonstrate somethin nigga?
Huh, I'd rather not
I'm talkin bout stacks cousin
Nigga that's what I got
Cash Rules the world
Well Cash Rules the spot

My preliminary attack keep cemetaries packed
of niggaz who think it ain't like that
MC's are gunned down like being run down with mad trucks
Them God struck, religious niggaz call it bad luck
Rap celeb, you got caught up in the web
now bees are stingin, yo that niggaz em-singin
I'm just swingin swords strictly based on keyboards
Unbalanced like elephants and ants on see-saws
I throw raps that attack like the Japs on Pearl Harbor
MC's be out like bank robbers
Fleeing the scene, to be a sole survivor
DJ the getaway driver
Tried to dip but he dive I socialize on vocal vibes
On tracks stabbed up with razor sharp knives
Criminal subliminal minded rappers find it
Hard to define it, when narrow is the gate
for fat tapes and then played out and out of date
Then I construct my thoughts on site to renovate
And from that point, the God made a statement
Draftin tracements, replacements in basements
materials in sheet-rock, to sound proof the beat box
and microscopic optics received through the boxes
obnoxious topic, major labels, flavor tropical
Punchlines, that's unstoppable
Ring like shots from glocks that attract cops
around the clubs and try to shut down the hip-hop
But we only increase if everything is peace
Father U C King the police

Well if you livin in the world today
You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggaz that front we don't handle em
So we blast em, alright, well OK

Well if you like the way it sound then clap man
And if the women love it too well then raise your hands
But only raise your hands if you're Sure
Punk niggaz shatter like a glass jaw, break it

If you livin in the world today
You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggaz that front we don't handle em
So we blast em, alright, well OK, yeah



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 12:30 AM
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Send My Love To The Dancefloor by


Cobra Starship



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 12:57 AM
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SNG: Third Reich Form The Sun
ARTST: Hanzel und Gretyl



IKoN Media.



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 01:03 AM
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Du Hast by



Rammestein



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 04:53 AM
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Incubus - Light Grenades

I suppose this is one of those albums that you gotta grow into. I still prefer Make Yourself.



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 05:00 AM
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posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 08:14 AM
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Linkin' Park

Breaking The Habit



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 09:49 AM
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posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 10:53 AM
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Eminems new CD the RE-UP.



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 10:54 AM
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Black Sabbath - Paranoid



Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind
people think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time
All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy
Think I'll lose my mind if I don't find something to pacify

Can you help me occupy my brain?
Oh yeah

I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find
I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind

Make a joke and I will sigh and you will laugh and I will cry
Happiness I cannot feel and love to me is so unreal

And so as you hear these words telling you now of my state
I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could but it's too late






-tts



posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 03:37 PM
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posted on Dec, 14 2006 @ 04:21 PM
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Can I Play With Madness? by


Iron Maiden



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