Monday, February 23, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Sunspot Jonz - The Word Song (Video)
New video from Sunspot Jonz new album, "Fight-Destroy-Rock!!! Vol. 1...This is the cheapest video Sunspot has ever made, but we don't give a fukk!! We keep that sh!t raw, that's what "Fight-Destroy-Rock!!!" is all about, its UHB 6, that true underground sh!t!!!!!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Stereo Bible
Stereo Bible
Lord help me
Who really know me
who just desert me
Them bitches all phoney
I ain't a saint often deep in the paint
Going off on a Muthafucka
Cant weaken the frame
They call me a weaklink
Hate on my clothing
Hate on my singing
Anything I'm bringing
got ya girl smiling
Phone dialing
Hidden in the rhyming
Metaphors -now silence
I taught you how to do this underground
Hustle now
Don't get too for ya britches
Stupid ass bitches
Don't even use the four track
Without saying my name
Three times like hail Mary
Ya first album was demo mang
That shit sucked but you grew through the cuts
That's a true artist
Blend it all up
Shake us it all with it so powerful written
My bible is my stereo
Back to the beginning
Lord help me
I'm a make em see me
This Grown ass MC
Producer of dope beats
That has been the soundtrack
To those who live in the underground
That knew about the journeymen
And how we built a legend how
Things exist
putting ya heart in it
But never forget
where you came from
That's a real bitch
Thinking you the shit
Cuz you smell like it
Flush that bust back abstract
Flashbacks yeah dats Wack
Why don't you be a real cat
Or the dogs will come out
Chewing up the whole track
Spit it out like a panthers gat
Take that
Splitting ya medulla
Cerebelum lyracism
To the wise
Rest to ya girls thighs
As she gets on down
All my people need to rise
All the lies fantaciseStereo Bible
Lord help me
Who really know me
who just desert me
Them bitches all phoney
I ain't a saint often deep in the paint
Going off on a Muthafucka
Cant weaken the frame
They call me a weaklink
Hate on my clothing
Hate on my singing
Anything I'm bringing
got ya girl smiling
Phone dialing
Hidden in the rhyming
Metaphors -now silence
I taught you how to do this underground
Hustle now
Don't get too for ya britches
Stupid ass bitches
Don't even use the four track
Without saying my name
Three times like hail Mary
Ya first album was demo mang
That shit sucked but you grew through the cuts
That's a true artist
Blend it all up
Shake us it all with it so powerful written
My bible is my stereo
Back to the beginning
Lord help me
I'm a make em see me
This Grown ass MC
Producer of dope beats
That has been the soundtrack
To those who live in the underground
That knew about the journeymen
And how we built a legend how
Things exist
putting ya heart in it
But never forget
where you came from
That's a real bitch
Thinking you the shit
Cuz you smell like it
Flush that bust back abstract
Flashbacks yeah dats Wack
Why don't you be a real cat
Or the dogs will come out
Chewing up the whole track
Spit it out like a panthers gat
Take that
Splitting ya medulla
Cerebelum lyracism
To the wise
Rest to ya girls thighs
As she gets on down
All my people need to rise
All the lies fantacise
Lord help me
Who really know me
who just desert me
Them bitches all phoney
I ain't a saint often deep in the paint
Going off on a Muthafucka
Cant weaken the frame
They call me a weaklink
Hate on my clothing
Hate on my singing
Anything I'm bringing
got ya girl smiling
Phone dialing
Hidden in the rhyming
Metaphors -now silence
I taught you how to do this underground
Hustle now
Don't get too for ya britches
Stupid ass bitches
Don't even use the four track
Without saying my name
Three times like hail Mary
Ya first album was demo mang
That shit sucked but you grew through the cuts
That's a true artist
Blend it all up
Shake us it all with it so powerful written
My bible is my stereo
Back to the beginning
Lord help me
I'm a make em see me
This Grown ass MC
Producer of dope beats
That has been the soundtrack
To those who live in the underground
That knew about the journeymen
And how we built a legend how
Things exist
putting ya heart in it
But never forget
where you came from
That's a real bitch
Thinking you the shit
Cuz you smell like it
Flush that bust back abstract
Flashbacks yeah dats Wack
Why don't you be a real cat
Or the dogs will come out
Chewing up the whole track
Spit it out like a panthers gat
Take that
Splitting ya medulla
Cerebelum lyracism
To the wise
Rest to ya girls thighs
As she gets on down
All my people need to rise
All the lies fantaciseStereo Bible
Lord help me
Who really know me
who just desert me
Them bitches all phoney
I ain't a saint often deep in the paint
Going off on a Muthafucka
Cant weaken the frame
They call me a weaklink
Hate on my clothing
Hate on my singing
Anything I'm bringing
got ya girl smiling
Phone dialing
Hidden in the rhyming
Metaphors -now silence
I taught you how to do this underground
Hustle now
Don't get too for ya britches
Stupid ass bitches
Don't even use the four track
Without saying my name
Three times like hail Mary
Ya first album was demo mang
That shit sucked but you grew through the cuts
That's a true artist
Blend it all up
Shake us it all with it so powerful written
My bible is my stereo
Back to the beginning
Lord help me
I'm a make em see me
This Grown ass MC
Producer of dope beats
That has been the soundtrack
To those who live in the underground
That knew about the journeymen
And how we built a legend how
Things exist
putting ya heart in it
But never forget
where you came from
That's a real bitch
Thinking you the shit
Cuz you smell like it
Flush that bust back abstract
Flashbacks yeah dats Wack
Why don't you be a real cat
Or the dogs will come out
Chewing up the whole track
Spit it out like a panthers gat
Take that
Splitting ya medulla
Cerebelum lyracism
To the wise
Rest to ya girls thighs
As she gets on down
All my people need to rise
All the lies fantacise
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
LYRICS: "POOR MAN'S SALSA" FROM "THE DARKSIDE OV HEAVEN"
Poor Mans Salsa
Don't Stop
I be drinking in the morning
Talking shit to my neighbors
got the flavor that you need
Like my daddies aligators
Savor all my rhythm style
Driving drunk and naked wow
Yous a freaky freaky one
Searched the world and here you come
Messing up my leather couch
No sitting down and waiting now
Sell the music get it out
So fresh and dope
u hear the crowd
We doin all nighters
No sleep hangovers
You got some girls call em over
Damn we met in Minnesota
Mix Bacardi with the soda
Nothing changes we just older
All you Haters help blow me up
Like syrup watch you slo on up
I'm counting all my dough up
Twon't listen if you poor a
Messgae up into the chorus
So let's talk about these whore
None of y'all really got a thang on me
Rock on the mic and I made the beat
You silly little fuck when I puff the weed
Picadilly Homie u can't do like me
I do like you
When I find my groove
I move so true move ya booty boo
To all you faker non love makers
Do you love ya family like you love the lakers
them flags on ya car
Boot on my car
Looking for the meter maid
Kill them all
My shower is a disco
She's from frisco
relationship fizzled
Blast that missle
Up in the middle
Wit widdle
Now she's widow
I kilt yo little
memory
So into me
So follow me
To extacsy
Don't save fast food and heat it up
ya toes messed up a midget beat em up
Yo
Make a show pop I'll seat em up
Money like women never ever enough
I spit my rhyme
U do the crime
I get the dime
I use my mind
drunk out
On sunset
Ill crunk up the coatcheck
We high as a muthafucka
Ride with me muthafucka
Girls on girls I'm good with that
Just let me watch and feel the cat
When he speaks on the beats
I'm a king
time ain't cheap pay attention to me
I learned my game from the streets
Only suckas don't know how to eat
So That's me that top MC
That's me that top MC
Ohh -Ahh-yeah
I'm caught in the middle
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
I be drinking in the morning
Talking shit to my neighbors
got the flavor that you need
Like my daddies aligators
Savor all my rhythm style
Driving drunk and naked wow
Yous a freaky freaky one
Searched the world and here you come
Messing up my leather couch
No sitting down and waiting now
Sell the music get it out
So fresh and dope
u hear the crowd
We doin all nighters
No sleep hangovers
You got some girls call em over
Damn we met in Minnesota
Mix Bacardi with the soda
Nothing changes we just older
All you Haters help blow me up
Like syrup watch you slo on up
I'm counting all my dough up
Twon't listen if you poor a
Messgae up into the chorus
So let's talk about these whore
None of y'all really got a thang on me
Rock on the mic and I made the beat
You silly little fuck when I puff the weed
Picadilly Homie u can't do like me
I do like you
When I find my groove
I move so true move ya booty boo
To all you faker non love makers
Do you love ya family like you love the lakers
them flags on ya car
Boot on my car
Looking for the meter maid
Kill them all
My shower is a disco
She's from frisco
relationship fizzled
Blast that missle
Up in the middle
Wit widdle
Now she's widow
I kilt yo little
memory
So into me
So follow me
To extacsy
Don't save fast food and heat it up
ya toes messed up a midget beat em up
Yo
Make a show pop I'll seat em up
Money like women never ever enough
I spit my rhyme
U do the crime
I get the dime
I use my mind
drunk out
On sunset
Ill crunk up the coatcheck
We high as a muthafucka
Ride with me muthafucka
Girls on girls I'm good with that
Just let me watch and feel the cat
When he speaks on the beats
I'm a king
time ain't cheap pay attention to me
I learned my game from the streets
Only suckas don't know how to eat
So That's me that top MC
That's me that top MC
Ohh -Ahh-yeah
I'm caught in the middle
Don't Stop
Monday, February 2, 2009
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