Music World
 
Find Artists:
 
 
 
Russian versionSwitch to Russian 
8Ball & MJG
8Ball & MJG


Background information
Origin Memphis, Tennessee, United States
Genre(s) Hip-hop
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) Real Talk Entertainment
Grand Hustle Records
E1 Music
Associated acts UGK
Three 6 Mafia
Young Buck
Yo Gotti
Al Kapone
Tameka Cottle
Website Website
Members
Premro Smith
Marlon Jermaine Goodwin



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  #  →  8Ball & MJG  →  Albums  →  On Top Of The World

8Ball & MJG Album


On Top Of The World (02/11/1995)
02/11/1995
1.
On Top Of The World Intro
2.
3.
What Can I Do
4.
For Real
5.
Funk Mission
6.
Kick That Shit
7.
8.
Hand Of The Devil
9.
Top Of The World
10.
What Do You See
11.
In The Line Of Duty
12.
13.
Comin' Up
14.
15.
Break'em Off
. . .

On Top Of The World Intro

[No lyrics]

. . .


Unh, light up the bomb
Cuz here I come
It's eight bizall got the remedy
Dr. Green's sticky got the cure for me
Pimp tight, I'm so tight
Takin flight like a kite
When the wind blows
Creepin in my Timbo's
Most, hoe's know, I'm out to get the loot
Fuck being your boyfriend girl I wanna hit the boot's
Jump, deep in that rump, and then I got a flat bitch
You should've known how a real nigga act
That's, why I be, about my P's and Q's
Cuz hoe's end up being bad news
Find em, fuck em, split em, forget em
Let the hoe go, so the next Joe can hit em
Real about this playa shit, Suave came deeper than the ocean
Lip on hay, hit me wit the potion, floatin
Cloud nine is beneath me
Niggas can't see Eightball and MJ fuckin G
Dope, like a cake, fake, niggas get the
Fuckin wit' the,
Don't be the next one to get done and find
You can't fade a pimp in his own fuckin rhyme

[Chorus:]

Pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm

These bitches be poppin game, and wearin they niggas clothes
Scandalous, groupie, big choosy, booty outrageous hoes
Bitches and backrubs
Bubblin bathtubs
Luxury hotels
Executive strip clubs
A natural born break-a-bitch scholar, holla if ya hear me
Step on if ya trick bustas fear me
Hear the, pimp speakin
For all and each
And each and all
Now break em off somethin ball
What's next?, much real shit, comin from the two
Pimp niggas who survived, comin up payin dues
Funky flippin
Style switchin
Niggas better pay attention
Before the automatic starts spittin
Listen, Eightball be straight bubblin
Slaw ass niggas gettin broke off by my tongue again
Comin in, MJ fuckin G lettin em no the time
And I'm, just a pimp in my rhyme

[Chorus:]

Pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm

Here comes the motherfucking playa
The rhyme saya
Bitch slaya
I break a
Young womans back then I take her
Home
The thrill is gone
I gotta jet, the set
Before I get my ass in some mess
Sippin hennesey, till I finish the whole cup of the cognac
Catchin contacts, put the blunts back
Supa fly mista goldy,
Its getting oldy
So label me a young goody
Straight out the hoody
I'm able to lay my game down
In a single bound
Then while I'm in the same town
Smokin out on the pound
As I'm keepin an eye for tight hoe's, while I creep, through the streets
While you sleep put them D's on my Jeep, peep this
A hundred and ten percent, physical fitness
I lay the type of pipe that put the plumber out-a-business
Who is this?, manipulata
Demonstrata
Pimp shit, top rata
Trick hata
Bustas can't comprehend, but then again
They never could, to busy fuckin off in the neighborhood
I'm a keep pimpin rhymes
I'm outta my pimpin mind
I'm here to say that I'm
A pimp in my own rhyme

[Chorus:]

Pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
Pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp, in my own, fuckin rhyme
Pimp in my own fuckin rhyme yes I'm
A pimp!

. . .

What Can I Do

[No lyrics]

. . .

For Real

[No lyrics]

. . .

Funk Mission

[No lyrics]

. . .

Kick That Shit

[No lyrics]

. . .


(feat. E-40)

(Anyway, it doesn't matter much how you feel,
you know what you got to do, I'm here to do it,
how about you?)

[E-40:]
Our age, five-years-old
we were young bucks
scrubbin' each others backs in the bathtub
Babysitter would send you to bed
but she would make me stay up
so she could give the young playa some viscious head uh
early symptoms of
time of nightway
gigantic factor from the
Caukenis bitch tamer
some had it all though
but less unfortunate
you had an alloy spoke Mongoose
and I had a Huffy
You owned a green machine
three different lunch pails
I had a go-cart that I built from a bunch of used nails
We grew up in the church together nigga
sunday school
Now I heard you off into jackin nigga
that ain't even cool
I used to be conned, racked, fucked around,
and ripped bad
barking up on the wrong tree
talking about runnin up in my past

Niggas have hateful thoughts
but they stop me from strivin
suckas be shakin salt
all in his gameful so find
some fools be gettin crossed
victims of 40-ness
man all that drama you come with
I swear you on some shit
Whether it's morphine or cocaine
Doja or doggfood
they had these marks for Tre and Max
fuckin off my high breakin rules
you got ya P's mixed up
you ain't no pimp
you's a forty
I spit for major mix
while you make tapes for ya homie
and then you work up tha nerve
to speak fair words
The pimp, a traitor, we instigators
that's why I wrote this verse
for every youngster with his mind on his meal
Young playa just chill
and take a look at what these fakers call real
nigga

I trust no man,
cuz man will let you down every time
that's why I take it upon myself to thank god in every rhyme
cuz I've seen better times
and I've seen worser days
when some of my so called friends
wasn't around when I ain't have a verse to say
I quench my thirst today
with righteous thoughts of mine
cuz righteous thought of mine will leave mark ass niggas far behind
I seen it every time
they come and go
That's why I drop to my knees
and ask god to distinguish friend from foe
and what do you know
by the time morning comes I can see the light
and then I'm thanking god once again for making everything all right
he made it tight and now I'm back up on the scene
countin' greens
straight from H-town to New Orleans
New human beings puttin it down like a mic or not
replace the slot open up shop
we 'bout to make it hot
Stop
with ya devilish doins
because ya devilish doins will only bring forth ya ruin

Friend or foe, you just will never know
Who can you trust, in a world that's oh so cold
playa hatin is everywhere I go
Friend or foe you just will never know

Listen
I'm tryin to tell you my nigga to watch cha back
and trust few
Cause ain't no nigga gon watch ya back for you like you
When someone is broke and down and out without no clout it's rough
At least you know who you can and who you cannot trust
see let me explain myself and clear up the point I'm tryin to make
don't want no bustas around me
playa hatin or actin fake
don't ever be wantin nobody to get to close
I don't know if it's effects of
from the marijuana that got me more than trippin
see nowadays tha nigga be rollin' thick with hella loot
but if my loot was gone would I be all alone?
See, my partners who used to ride with me
and smoke that dank, and fuck with hoes
would they be them same niggas if I didn't have shit to roll?
Maybe they will, maybe they won't
who is to say what a nigga will do
who is to say if you help someone it's guaranteed that they'll help you
see what I'm sayin, listen to me and see if you can dig this
Smilin' faces replaces friends when people recieve ends
Now all of a sudden I'm actin funny because my moneys loaned
But there was no drama when I was livin' at my momma's home
But I'm not tellin' a nigga nothin you don't already know
personal business, you got to watch who you friends is

I'm thinking about hard times
freeing my mind
who in the fuck goin be my crutch?
Holdin me up, helpin me out
makin sure that I stay in touch
Where do I sleep, who do I turn to?
When I be low on my cash
who am I down with when fifty niggas be talkin bout kickin my ass?
Who is my friends who is my foes?
Who do I ask, when I want to know
somethin about somethin but I don't know nothin
my ignorance be keepin me out in the cold
Who do I call when I'm in need of a ride?
in somebody elses car
How do I get from point A to B if B is just to far?
Where can I get a loan, where can I use the phone?
Who's goin to give me the permission to make a decision
to come up in they house and live
when will I drive a BMer takin my clothes to the cleaner
How can I know
will I forever be payin my dues, will I forever be singing the blues?
Where will I find a shoulder when I be wantin to lean
know what I mean?
when I be needin some justification
stuck in the fuckin same location
who is the friend that is helpin me?
who is the busta thats hurtin me?
who can I trust?
will you be there when the goin is tough?
Will I be hangin with dick in the dust?
Who wanna share my load when it's too heavy to carry?
or will I go crazy pullin the load alone?
constantly gettin my hustle on
when will I finally see, kinda suspect
or even actually know
Who is my real friend thick and the thin?
and who in the fuck is the foe?

Friend or foe, you just will never know
Who can you trust, in a world that's oh so cold
playa hatin is everywhere I go
Friend or foe you just will never know..

. . .

Hand Of The Devil

[No lyrics]

. . .

Top Of The World

[No lyrics]

. . .

What Do You See

[No lyrics]

. . .

In The Line Of Duty

[No lyrics]

. . .


[Suave Circle (All-Stars)]
[First Verse: Thorough]

They told me to come clever, whatever,
it dont make, it's on you,
so I be who I be, and do what I gotta do,
I'm one of the few, the proud and the pimpish
in this business I be the swiftest when I kick this,
as if you didnt know it's Thorough from that Suave Camp,
Best Vemp chimped, or get licked like a mail stamp,
amps and beats, technics is what I come with,
gangsta's and pimps and balla's is who I fuck with...

[Mr. Mike]
FUCK nobody safe when I see demons in tha mirror,
wicked as fuck feeling like a Murder & Killa,
witness i'm on the defense like Johnny Cochran,
NOW GIVE UP YO THANGS MISTA, before this glock hit the proper spot,
blocks on phones, they wont leave they homes, peeping through cracks
cause blacks be coming back with all that past crap,
strap on your bullit proof vest and combat boots
it's NIGGA NIGGA DAY!! ,
and this time we go come on you,
baby blue disguise thats wise,
made me loose my 9-5 got myself a 4-5 im,
aimless spraying not playing with their vertabrates,
these the Murda Dayz,
so many niggaz must come wicked,
we done heard of wayz........

[Eightball]
I see one, two, Niggaz actin live,
3 seconds past before I blast with my 4-5,
6 shots, 7 cops, just to take 8ball,
9 witnesses reported all the shit the recalled,
everlasting, blasting, niggaz running fast when,
buckin gott'em ducking ,
putting sucka's in the past tense,
i be the holder of the gat therefore it shall not run,
a psychic couldnt see such a feature for my momma's son,
(Nigga) Breath taker, the overweight trouble maker,
fake trick breaker, Tennessee earthquaker,
shaking grounds when i'm walking smoking fat onion,
i get lit, and beat the shit out of Paul Bunyon,
fightin, Clash of the Titans on your dial,
i'm gettin blitzed stickin on my tootsie doggystyle,
word G, you heard me,
the wicked bitch served,
now i'm playing soccer, gotta kick'em to da curb G,
but she's not with it, put a spell on the fat mack,
i hate stikin hoe's but I cant help but to go back,
i sound like a fiend, everytime is the last time,
could this be reality or all in my mind?......

[Mr. Mike]
Spill 9's like fluid, do it like some G's
they know me from Columbian streets to Portugeese,
(nigga how u figga)
i got mo scratch than flea's,
i got mo gat's than these,
high powered sour nigga's,
steady slangin crack to fiend's,
at ease, take a look at some black G's
scopin the president, takin over residents like black kings,
stack G's with phat key's,
rats ease on your properties poppin me for my black jeans

[Thorough]
i had a cracker on my scope and my finger still itchin,
visions of killing and then the strap start spittin, hittin,
the prez, plottin payback on the devil,
a rebel and a mason is what yall snakes facing,
chasing traders with my data cause I hata should be corpe,
and peep game when it's being taught, or to picture this of us lyricists,
seeing nigga'z taking shots and the same nigga'z getting hit,
spit the gift and got fam like Gotti,
hittin her like hobbies,
killin everybody,
let my head grip the bed and I check the time,
it's all a dream, I seen in my fuckin mind.....

[MJG]
280 pounds of hay, every damn day I gotta test a,
25 lighters on my dressa' , yes ah,
breakfast being served by a hoe that look like Genie,
she press my every wish and keeps a tight ass bikini tini,
tiny as a Barbie Doll summer set,
she all up in my house and I still aint hit that pussy yet,
I gives props to my butler, cause he know,
that I know on the downlow he's a chiefin muthafucka for ya,
now as I flips through the calendar I spots the winter,
if it aint 3 mo freaky hoes wanna have dinner,
but I cant do it cause my schedule just to tight,
i just phoned, Quincy Jones said he needs my help tonight,
he wanted me to pick the strong from the wimps,
them playa's with the limps to make a song called We Are The Pimps,
i call's Ball, Ball calls the crew,
we met up at the Penthouse, and Paris Round 2,
do , u know the code to the fence, if u dont,
then move on cause u aint got no home in this residence,
it's evident that i'm daydreaming high,
all the time ever last line ALL IN MY MIND....

. . .

Comin' Up

[No lyrics]

. . .


(feat. Nina Creque)

[Intro:]

I want you
I got to have you
But what will this lead to?
Will it just be me and you?
Tell me.... you know I want you
Tell me how you feel....

[Verse One: MJG]

I'll be obliged
if you step outside
because my ride is awaitin
our date an
of steak an
a night cap
we matin
awakin
by smells of perfume that I inhale
and then tell how well we raise hell on the dizzell
satin sheets
heat from your feet keep me warm
The mood is perfected by sounds from the storm
You came stronger
I lasted longer
Than I've ever lasted
your mouth was fantastic
the fuck test
you passed it
the way you made a nigga laugh
I had to getcha
and when I saw that ass pass
I had to hit cha
ya makin me fight against my will
What must I do?
[Would ya kill for me?]
Ya if my life in danger too
[Even steal for me?]
Ya if that shit belongs to you
[Then feel for me?]
Ya if the way you act is true
Who knows
fine clothes
Lexus doors you'll be closin
when you become one of the chosen
hoes in different places
different faces
different cases
got me tied like shoe laces
no mistake this MJG
you ain't gotta be
constantly tryin to shoot that P
claimin that you ain't heard of me
keepin it real
let me know how you feel when we communicate
We'll be straight
if you express your mind
instead of referring away
some who can't do it
lose women
but nigga like me used to it
Space Age Pimpin'

[Chorus:]

New day, new age
Every once in awhile this is how we slang our game
New day, new age
Nothin is too strong
New day, new age
when settin it out is all we straight to do
New day, new age
Just me and you, just me and you

[Verse Two: Eightball]

You and I, me and you
situation gettin sticky
your mouth is sayin no
but your body's sayin stick me
lick me
don't be afraid of what your friends say
rappers get dat ass
then be outta here like yesterday
but not tonight
you look so tight
it feels so right
this indo got me pervin
let's go hop in my Suburban
and ride til we get to where you want to be
no matter how far
just call me Oball baby
to me your the superstar
ask me time and time again why did I choose you
Do I wanna be your man or just misuse you
I hear your partners dissin'
when they think I ain't listenin'
them hoes just be wishin
they could be in yo position
wit me in luxury
I got to be everyday
chief in hey would somethin stout wearin lingerie
Let's hit the hotel
get a suite
an order somethin to eat
tell me things about you
I'll tell you things about me
then out the blue I'll be carressin you
undressin you
You start doin all shit you said you'd never do
lustin bustin all out of my boxer drawers
fingers dripping slippin in an out in an out
constantly tellin me the things you don't do
Yet you do it like a pro and think I don't know
but I do that's why I'm here wit you and you know this
slip on the latex
and dive in
SWISH!

[Chorus]

[Outro:]

Hey...
please come back to me baby don't ya leave...
(shhhh... don't do that)
you know I want cha, you know I gotta have you...
(Ya, I know but I got to go)
I want cha please come back to me...
(Damn, you makin it hard for a nigga to leave, don't do that)
Don't cha leave, don't cha leave, don't cha leave
(I got to go, I got to get up an go)
I want you, I want you
(I think I want this baby)

. . .

Break'em Off

[No lyrics]

. . .


blog comments powered by Disqus



© 2011 Music World. All rights reserved.