QN5 Music

90% of this is right but theres a couple of words/lines im not to sure about, if anyone could correct me

I F*cking Hate Rappers

I fucking hate rappers, you fuck and date rappers
I do a show, peep the crowd, fucking great- rappers
Anyone who ain’t rappers, let’s have a show of hands
Cause there’s too many emcees, not enough fans
Used to be about the posses, crews, cliques, and the clans
Now these ‘Lil-Young-Boyz’ thinkin’ they the fuckin’ man
They’re the reason fans only gave Lupe a chance
Cause they thought “Kick, Push” was the name of a dance
Well my click, clack, spray ain’t the wave of the hands
Its the way of the land - while I stay in demand
Now they say I’m the man. I’m beginning to be
The PackFM in his prime you’re pretending to be
So when you see that nigga me, recognize the history
Ever since I hit the scene I’ve been deemed an entity
Even did this shit for free, dawg, do your research
Hip hop changed my life, Dilla changed your t-shirt
Whats the big deal, I just say what y’all thinkin
You’re stompin with your mind, but tip toe with the inkpen
And wont shit change, except for niggas steady ‘riffing/
Shit ain’t funny, I’m a stand up guy like Eddie Griffin
So if you hear a name mentioned, it ain’t to gain attention
My intention is the same even if I’m blacklisted
So dead all that talk about “Ooh Pack dissed em”
There’s a lot of shit we’re about to get out of Pack’s system
I try to black it out stay in a zone of my own y’all
But then some little bitch gets a text or a phone call
And won’t pick it up, she let’s it ring for the whole song
And next thing I find my self singing along
Like hold on..

BITCH, IF YOU DONT PICK UP YOUR FUCKIN’ PHONE
DON’T YOU SEE ME TALKIN’ HERE? GODDAMMIT!

We gotta hold someone accountable for this absurd amount of bull
They tell me words are powerful but this is insurmountable
So call me a hater, say im mad, it wont phase me
Cause the first step to changing things is getting people angry
So when I’m on this fuckin mic, speakin’ through the wire
I’ma get an ‘Amen’ because I’m preaching to the choir
But I know my voice is reaching, when the heathens call me Sire
And they leave behind the legions of the demons in the fire
The fans don’t demand it stops, the standards drop
The second they accept it, shit, its gettin’ hectic
Supporters turn skeptic when the talent is neglected
They don’t know what to expect from the nigga’s they respected
The mark of the artist is who pushes the hardest
Not who strays the farthest, but stays true regardless
I step outside the box, you’ll never question where my heart is
Like certain heads who try to set themselves apart for starters
If you played Common now, for Common Sense in ’92
The ‘Bitch In Yoo’ woulda been the ‘Bitch In Yoo Part Two’
But when the main aim is fame, you can’t kick the same shit
When no one’s listening, you gotta make some changes
Pride gets you nowhere, niggas become shameless
Used to go against the grain, now you ride the wavelength
At the end of the day, stand by your statements
“If I don’t like it, I don’t like it – that don’t mean I’m hating”
You gotta be more than ill to make green like Chlorophyll
You can take all the skill, invent some sort of pill
Throw it in a bottle, slap a sticker on it
And its STILL irrelevant, thats why you need a model to sell the shit
I’m beating a dead horse! So, I’ma scream til I’m hoarse
From tellin these dead beats get lost
Just abandon ship, lets ban this bitch
A sellout can’t exist if he can’t get rich
I just can’t stand this shit! Hit the panic switch!
And put an end to this chapter, from here on after
Then no one will have to deal with the wrath of/
These half-assed fucking bandwagon riding rappers.

fuckkkkkkkk

I just spent over a half hour writing the lyrics to this song to post it

Practically every pair of lines is quotable. IFHR <3

Nasty (courtesy of the music section)

Sludge
Crud
Grimy, filthy and nasty
Disgusting, repulsive
Nasty and filthy and dirty
Shitty and grungy and fuckin’ dirty ass nails
I aint bathed in a week
Grimy scuffed up timbs
Sweaty ass T-shirt
But I got a pretty ass chain though
I stink

I’m so sick with it from my toes to my fitted
Don’t knock me, I’m cocky, I’m supposed to admit it
And for those who are critics, if in a minute you don’t get it, you can skip it, just pretend it was a snippet, but it isn’t, so just let me finish, ‘cause you know I’ll rip it, and I’m (NASTY)
Who knew I got a couple screws loose
A senior in the new school, a shark in a new pool
I came across a few fools who tried to play it too cool
There’s execution footage on Youtube
Make a move it could be you too, ‘cause I’m (NASTY)

CHORUS
Filthy and rotten to the core, when I spit it these flies start droppin to the floor, I’m (NASTY)
Repulsively vulgar and foul, only one word can fit with my style. I’m tellin’ you I’m (NASTY)
Grungy disgusting and crusty, don’t touch me I’m funky and musty I must be so (NASTY)
Keep on (And don’t ever stop!)
I can’t, and I won’t, and I can’t, and I won’t, I’m (NASTY)

Low down dirty and grimy, can’t pass me, so slow down shorty don’t try me
You ask me to showdowns and wind up in ICU, watch me put my pee inside of your IV that’s (NASTY)
Who you know this traditional, but isn’t pigeonholed as one dimensional
Flows so original, leave you froze like the bitter winter cold
Smooth like a criminal, this individual’s so cynical, yet critical to your soul so salute the general ‘cause I’m (NASTY)
If your delicate you’d better get a medic kit
My etiquette will dead a kid’s sentences like predicate
I’m fed up with irrelevant rhetoric cleverly dressed as intelligence
Sellin’ repetitive sentiments, instead of developin’ niggas is settlin’
Shit is pathetic forget it bitch (NASTY)

CHORUS

houstonz said:Practically every pair of lines is quotable. IFHR <3

I feel the exact same way dude. More quotable’s than Tonedeff’s posse cut on Archetype!

Pretty sure there are at least a few errors in this one. Tone/Pack feel free to edit with corrections. (italicized are things that I just could not get, and took a guess )

Wanna Know

check it,
yo,

if skills sold, truth be told, i’d probably be
fuck that, yo, I’d still be me
I think back to the old tracks people say were so wack
yeah, I agree but the lyrics were dope
years ago I was stuck trying to be the new HOV
but now I’m sitting here wishing I was back to the old Pack
you know, going for broke,
flowing cold making room temperatures drop
so when I rock it’s like a blow of smoke
I must say that I’ve grown, updated the grind
another great emcee patiently waiting in line
it’s frustrating cause fate it be taking his time
and I just said to my self ‘quite complaining and rhyme’
straining my mind wondering what I got out
that should accept for niggas all up in my head like John Malkovich
before you couldn’t be down cause you liked the sound of it
couldn’t pay dues with a bill that was counterfeit
what mattered was the raw, nothing less, nothing more
now that whole scene’s deleted on the cutting room floor
there’s no substitute for the sound of a crowd’s roar
when they packed to the walls and they pouring out the door
but now you fast forward and it’s lost it’s allure
it ain’t a party, it’s a wake without a body in the morgue
I used to love it til I found out that this hottie was a whore
now I can’t wait til she ain’t fucking anybody anymore

CHORUS (Deacon)

I’m tired of all the jealousy
and all the fuckers telling me
that I got a hate filled heart
you better change your melody
or I’m a catch a felony
and that’s when the real shit starts
and I know
(they say rap’s changed)
and I know
(they wanna know how I feel about it)
and I know
(they say rap’s changed)
and I know, I know

Now getting back to the bad dude
coming back at you
with right to bear arms, no not that lack of tattoos
or tank tops, but the tactics to attack
just know I smell fear
so be cool, and act natural
my attitude will never interfere with my hustle
so I’m like pay me first, then I’m like fuck you
718 rushing through the corpuscle
flashy around the neck, ashy around the knuckle
let my shirt hang low you never see my belt buckle
scuff on my timb toes evidence of the scuffle
the bottom line kids, if you don’t want trouble
stand there and say nothing like MF DOOM’s stunt double
now I got your attention, you got you feather’s ruffled?
you can eat shit and choke, 2 girls and one cup
you see,
nobody’s running shit, everybody’s jogging
nobody’s writing songs, everybody’s blogging
record stores shut down, and customers log in
give a new meaning to the term window shopping
we barely had a choice before, when those options
dwindle down to nothing, we know who’ll they be copping
so when your hands hot and you give the cold shoulder
cause you a show closer and should be an opener
somebody shoulda told ya when it’s over we control it
with no strings attached like wii controllers

CHORUS

1st verse from “Wanna Know” is eeeeasily one of Pack’s best.

“I F*cking Like Everything”

I like Apple Jacks, I like Froot Loops
Vimeo’s cool, but I like YouTube
Don’t fuck with Bluetooth, don’t need no iPhone
I like my Sidekick, y’all can leave me alone
I like Futurama, I like Family Guy
I like The Cosby Show, I miss Family Ties
I like 24, I never miss a second
I need Season 7 for my DVD collection
I like Sasha Grey, I like Bang Bus
I like Krylon cans, that’s my paint brush
I like the number 7, and the letter P
I like the G train, cuz I always get a seat
I like my pants baggy, and my Timbs loose
Air Force Ones, that’s my favorite gym shoe
I like my hats fitted, I like big watches
Not big on strip clubs, but I like my chicks topless

[chorus]
Don’t go gettin the wrong idea
I’m not a hater, you gotta believe me
Probably think that I got no standards
Cuz it’s just so easy to please me
Now all my people in the street do whatcha like
Just rock to the beat, do whatcha like
And everybody in the house spread love tonight
Cuz ain’t a thing on this earth I doesn’t like

I like purple drink (yo what the fuck is juice?)
I like talkin to the youth, they like to hear the truth
I like the mamas and the papas, Supremes and The Four Tops
I like mixtape cases, they make perfect doorstops
I like crowds in Seattle, they always stay live
With they hands in the air cuz I like to stagedive
I like fresh white tees, can I get a (crispy)
I like Xbox 360 and Street Fighter 50
I like the Knicks and Yankees, the Giants and the Jets
And thanks to Jay-Z I rep Brooklyn with the Nets
I like to open sharpies, just for the smell of it
I like to say vagina, just for the hell of it
I like long walks on the beach and crossword puzzles
I like Kung Fu Panda and Kung Fu Hustle
I like the view from my rooftop, a new pair of tubesocks
I like Biggie over 2Pac, Huey on The Boondocks
I like to crush a lot, but I ain’t a hater
And 9 times outta 10 I’m an appreciater
But it’s just my opinion, shouldn’t play a factor
So don’t get mad, cuz I still fuckin hate rappers

[chorus]

Sire (IFHR Version)

My reign begins now (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
My reign begins now.
I’m the king of the ghetto, suburban revival
At least a third of my rivals getting burned on arrival
6-11-77: the birth of your idol
Droppin’ 3 16’s like a verse in the bible
Now 30’s the new 20, I’m no longer 19
Spent my whole life being, a po’ mic fiend
And this ain’t no pipe dream, even though it might seem
Like I’m flyin’ in circles with no right wing, PackFM
Born and raised out in Brooklyn, with the name of a Muslim and the ways of a hoodlum,
7 days in a week, and I’m just praying for a good one,
To a sky with no limits, but I damn sure pushed ‘em.
The game never change, off the brain still the same
No politics, save kissing Babies for Lil’ Wayne
I done came a lil’ way, ain’t too far from the top
It’s so easy to explain why it’s hard for me to stop, I’m the king
(Sucka MC’s should call me sire, KINGGGGG)
My Reign begins now.
(I won’t stop rocking ‘til I retire, KINGGGGG)
Let it begin

I’m negative 1 in your top 10, ‘cause whenever I’m rockin’
It’s breath taking people gonna think you’re beat boxin’
(uh 1, 2?)
Ya’ keep on and don’t stop it
I’m bad to the bone, chromosomes and hemoglobin
My people ain’t fed? Trust me there will be no gobblin’
‘til we sittin’ at the table eatin’, I don’t see no options
When my thought bubble poppin’ I say the shit directly
Niggas talk a lot, but barely touch the surface like jet skis
I want y’all to listen to me, Relax it isn’t too deep
And if it is, then sue me, watch that first step, it’s a doozy
I’m on a mission to be, the illest kid on two feet
I paint your mind pictures, close your eyes, you’ll see a movie
Y’all niggas barely move me, I need a different routine
The scene just isn’t unique time for me to flip a new leaf
I feel like it’s my duty, to make these kids salute me
When I tip my crown, take a bow, all hail the new king
(Sucka MC’s should call me sire, KINGGGGG)
My Reign begins now.
(I won’t stop rocking ‘til I retire, KINGGGGG)
Let it begin

Okay now wait just a second, if you don’t know what I stand for
By now you started with the wrong record
Either way you gon’ respect this, don’t get the wrong message
This song is directed at rappers gone reckless
See I got a long checklist, to protect this I will shoot to kill
Sounds stranger than fiction but I will for real
If I talk it imma walk it, so don’t you ever doubt the fact
My actions will prevail over my words in a shoutin’ match
So rally up the troops, and notify the cavalry
The boogie-woogie Brooklyn boy is at it again
This for no one in particular and everyone specifically
I never wanna hear the word “swagger” again
If I do then the madness begins Heed the warning
Fuck your vanity I sacrifice my sanity for all this
When it’s all said and done and every damn song’s recorded
Imma leave you with nothing to stand on
Flawless/Floorless

Love y’all dudes lol

Decided to give this one a shot.. with plenty of corrections necessary in Pen’s lines.

“Tough Talk” ft. Poison Pen

(PackFM)
Let me tell you up front - I ain’t never back down
I ain’t get pat down so nigga how that sound?
The bigger they come, harder they hit the ground
If your knuckle game’s tight, let’s see who last more rounds
You talkin bout beef then you joke about a cow
Fuck the bullshit, all I’m thinkin bout’s how
We already know when, we already know where
Who is you big man? Them my niggas over there
See Plague’s got my back kid, not just my adlibs
Fist from the farside leave you with the fatlip
You’ll be soundin like money rollin with the fat kid
(????) - yeah that’s him
Think I ain’t got heart? Show you cardio too
Put the beats on you like Super Mario 2
I’m sorry homedude, but the choir starts to riot
If you want we can re-enact David and Goliath
I ain’t got shit to lose even if I don’t win
You gonna know by the end that I am not him
See you the type to get all twisted off of Koniak
And when it’s type to get it poppin you be yellin “hold me back”
(Poison Pen)
This midget got a ladder in his back pocket
(Napoleon ain’t got bodied with that logic???)
Ya best bet’s back up off this
Or this faggot gon be (???) in back probably
Yo, this scrawny nigga (hero?)
His birdchest belong on a rotisserie pole
I sat you out like a video show
Need to break (?) yo ass like a video hoe
Tough talk, change ya plans now
I’ll swing through you and knock ya fuckin man out
(????)
(????)
On the floor I’ma spill yo teeth
All because this lil nigga just spilt my drink
A simple “pardon me” woulda sufficed my dude
It’s on you
Welcome to ICU

HOOK
(PackFM)
Yo don’t get so big that ya britches won’t fit’cha
We’ll see how far all that tough talk get’cha
Those shirts rip ya picture
Ya bitches won’t miss ya
We’ll see how far all that tough talk get’cha
(Poison Pen)
When one fist hit’cha you’ll shut that lip up
We’ll see how far all that tough talk get’cha
Ya man signal the ambulance for the pick up (woop woop)
That’s what that tough talk get’cha

PackFM
You got a lotta nerve, this lesson you gotta learn
Backhand if you feel like Tina talkin outta Turn
And if you rap too, I’ma have the hotter verse
And if we both laid up, then I’ma have the hotter nurse
Poison Pen
The only thing you get’s a hotter hearse
You sweet, in yo hood they call you (???)
Throwin drinks is my primal urge
You act brave in the mirror
Call yo man like “I rehearsed I rehearsed!”
(PackFM)
What’chu mean gettin hurt by this fat bitch on his period?
Like XM Satellite, shit, you can’t be Sirius
(Poison Pen)
Little man with big talk, betta give him space
Where you get that outfit from boy, Children’s Place?
(PackFM)
Don’t get’cha children placed inside of a foster home
Forced to grow all alone, daddy couldn’t hold his own
(Poison Pen)
I hold my own in yo mutha’s mouth
Knockin little niggas out is what I’m about

HOOK

Let me do the honors. There are two lines that I’m not sure about. Stan’s “Cripple your famm,” and Mecc’s “sour-ass niggas.” Other than that, I think it’s right.

Take Our Place (ft. Dominion)

Check it out, here we go.
One, one two
Dominion…
Pack FM
The name is Mecc
And your boy Substantial
QN5 Music.
Try’na take our place.

[Pack]
Yo, sometimes I feel like I just rap for the fuck of it.
The fact is, I must, despite the lack of the luck
‘Cause if I threw it all away it’d come back, and I’m stuck with it
The love of my life but she act like a fuckin’ bitch
The game’s on some sucker shit. Everybody know it is,
So cry me a river, build a bridge and get over it.
I walk across to snap the props I know I’m supposed to get.
For quotes I’m the poster kid, for dope, I’m as close it gets.
I don’t sit with the cool kids, I’m antisocial.
The thin line between retro and old school.
This is fresh, authentic, validated, certified,
Satisfaction guaranteed, every track is murdered by
no other. That’s word to my mother’s
second cousin’s brother’s next door neighbor’s butler
I’m a do-or-die hustler and a stupid fly brother
known to crucify suckers, So just move aside, busta,
You ain’t QN5? Fuck ya.
I’m driven without a chauffeur, I want it I go for broke
I’ll snatch the pennies out your loafers, nigga, what.
I’m a winner without a coach in my corner,
go toe-to-toe if you wanna but we all know where you ended.
Up.

[Hook 2x]
They wanna take our place? Try if you wanna.
We’ll break your face, get the fuck up out of here
Y’all ain’t rappers, Y’all ain’t MCs
Not even hip-hop. You serious? Bitch, please.

[Stan]
Ain’t a rapper you can think of I can’t outshine.
How the fuck they get fans when they cannot rhyme?
I stay with standout lines, and I’ll knock your ass out
Now look me in the face and tell me am I lyin’?
I emanate power, eliminate cowards
Show ‘em how men rhyme, it’s in my enzymes.
Original man the lyrical Stan gets mine.
Cripple your famm and pitiful plan in time.
Start running when I’m coming you hear wind chimes
You folks tryin’a run up an icy incline
You slippin’. Running your mouth, but who listens?
I make heat, pick up my album, use mittens.
Why burn it? My studio’s next to my furnace.
You must be Frivolous. Hi, I’m Ernest.
Or you can call me Frank, I don’t front on my backers.
Think we the same, you a fuckin’ lie, slacker!

[Hook 2x]

[Mecca]
The child abuser is back from manhandling kids!
Ain’t do your homework, now daddy gotta handle his biz.
Throwing grands on your wrist? Grandstanding but a hand cannon
Throw polka dots in tan phantoms. Last man standing
Satellite fly, tight as pants on reggae dancers.
First question got you niggas faking answers.
How many of y’all is cancers? Barrel craft, sour-ass niggers.
You’s a fucking joke, hope you choke and take your raps with ya.
I don’t get ya. Too busy skipping through your DVD looking for strippers
Fuck video, you ain’t getting the picture.
Can’t take the place of the Face-Breaker, you stupid?
You paint a pretty picture but weakness bleeds through it.
You almost got a label to put some G’s to it,
But as soon as they said you’re the bomb, your team blew it
Talk shit, then regret it.
Meanwhile, it’s fact because I said it
When my nuts hang, my pants look pregnant.

[Hook 2x.]

Just want to say thanks, album just arrived (ordered may 26th, international post sucks), love reading along. Especially with the right lyrics!

houstonz said:Decided to give this one a shot.. with plenty of corrections necessary in Pen’s lines.

“Tough Talk” ft. Poison Pen

(PackFM)
Let me tell you up front - I ain’t never back down
I ain’t get pat down so nigga how that sound?
The bigger they come, harder they hit the ground
If your knuckle game’s tight, let’s see who last more rounds
You talkin bout beef then you joke about a cow
Well, fuck the bullshit, all I’m thinkin bout’s how
We already know when, we already know where
Who is you big man? And my niggas over there
See Plague’s got my back kid, not just my adlibs
Fist from the farside leave you with the fatlip
You’ll be soundin like money rollin with the fat kid
(You mean Fat Albert) - yeah that’s him
Nigga ain’t got heart? Show you cardio too
Put the beats on you like Super Mario 2
I’m sorry homedude, but the quiet starts to riot
If you want we can re-enact David and Goliath
I ain’t got shit to lose even if I don’t win
You gonna know by the end that I am not him
See you the type to get all twisted off of cognac
And when it’s type to get it poppin you be yellin “hold me back”
(Poison Pen)
This midget got a ladder in his back pocket
(Napoleon ain’t got bodied with that logic???)
Ya best bet’s back up off this
Or this faggot gon be “shitbagging in bedrock?”
Yo, this scrawny nigga (hero?)
His birdchest belong on a rotisserie pole
I shout you out like a video show
Put the breaks yo ass like a video hoe
Tough talk, change ya plans now
I’ll swing through you and knock ya fuckin man down,
It’s a bruhaha, it’s a fracus it’s a melee,
instead of school papa, instead of scrapping, you can save face,
On the floor I’ma spill yo teeth
All because this lil nigga just spilt my drink
A simple “pardon me” wouldn’t suffice my dude
It’s on you
Welcome to ICU

HOOK
(PackFM)
Yo don’t get so big that ya britches won’t fit’cha
We’ll see how far all that tough talk get’cha
No shirts with your picture
Ya bitches won’t miss ya
We’ll see how far all that tough talk get’cha
(Poison Pen)
When one fist hit’cha you’ll shut that lip up
We’ll see how far all that tough talk get’cha
Ya man signal the ambulance for the pick up (woop woop)
That’s what that tough talk get’cha

PackFM
You got a lotta nerve, this lesson you gotta learn
Backhand make you feel like Tina talkin outta Turn
And if you rap too, I’ma have the hotter verse
And if we both laid up, then I’ma have the hotter nurse
Poison Pen
The only thing you get’s a hotter hearse
You sweet, in yo hood they call you (???)
Throwin drinks is my primal urge
You act brave in the mirror
Call yo man like “I rehearsed I rehearsed!”
(PackFM)
Picture me gettin herbed by this fat bitch on his period?
Like XM Satellite, shit, you can’t be Sirius
(Poison Pen)
Little man with big talk, betta give him space
Where you get that outfit from boy, Children’s Place?
(PackFM)
Don’t get’cha children placed inside of a foster home
Forced to roam all alone, daddy couldn’t hold his own
(Poison Pen)
I hold my own in yo mutha’s mouth
Knockin little niggas out is what I’m about

HOOK

Think I fixed, it’s what I hear when I hear the song.