Worldwide (Letra)

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Yeah yeah yeah
We got my man extra p in the house
But me and my man akinyele
You know we goin worldwide this tour
Cause yo you know how that go
We gon’ get together y’all, word up
That’s how we gon’ bring it to you
We gon’ go all around the world
Get this money, and do what we got to do
Word up, my man rhasaan in the house
We gon’ bring it to y’all like this, word up
Just give it to em ak.. uhh

[akinyele]
I been in and out all areas
And all you true hip-hop fans, you know the ak’s takin care of ya
Slap your ass with real rap
I keep it underground, like subways, so i can stay on track
I’m not a carpenter, but i’ll cut the rug
Think you can hang with ak? ha, that’s your brain on drugs
Smack fire out your ass like a flag from _backdraft_
Didn’t peep the movie, you don’t know the half
Schoolin mc’s until they start learnin
We don’t gotta be mississippi to watch the ak start burning
I kick that shit that’s known to hit
So much rap lines, you might fuck around and hang clothes on it
But yo it ain’t no thing in it, your static-free rhymes
That you kick, need to be kicked, cause it doesn’t got no cling in it
Then you turn around and start singin it
Hard akinyele be brought, so i’m here to start bringin it
First cannibalistic rhymer, eatin bitch niggaz
By the statistics, like, jeffery dahmer’s
Huh, scrapin you like a sculpture, murder you for the vulture
My dozen dirty, my brains be donated to agri-culture
So come on and face it, my skills are like medicine nigga
You just don’t wanna taste it
You best to slide to the side, another corner of the map
Cause this here is worldwide

Worldwide — yeah yeah (repeat 4x)

[akinyele]
Put them tired rhymes to bed, and loosen up your laces
Your shoes are too tight, and now it’s goin to your head
Me you feel you can pull with
Remember that i’m not a matador, so get off that bull-shit
I put rappers and singers in they place
A real rudebwoy with the raz’, i write it all over your face
Leavin you bloodier than a maxipad
Crayola crayons, they’d have to color me badd
So play like a midget and forget it
Cause i put oil to the fire, like an arsonist
When it comes time to set it
I get more run than an athletic
Sharp as a hyper-dermic
Lyrics are flavored up like a dia-betic
I recoups, and they try to step to this
Nowadays i probably have as much kids as jerry lewis
My rhymes drip like a razor, punch like joe frazier
I don’t sell shoes, because i don’t believe in favors
Ducks better break north, before i start
Baggin that ass, like a motherfuckin washcloth
Winnin battles cause i’m a hip-hop soldier
Act like you know, and fuck what your girl told ya
No bluff, for years i’ve been in this
A nine to five employee don’t got shit on me
Cause i done stepped to nuff rapper business
Beggin for for-giveness
Channel 7 news and people from jehovah done witnessed
The whole akinyele vibe
You know what i’m sayin kid, this here is worldwide

Worldwide — yeah yeah (repeat 4x)

[akinyele]
Ak not catchin wreck, come the fuck on
Ring the alarm, i drop bombs like the guard in vietnam
I kick that shit, niggaz dream to write
My brain so hot that it ignites, but you can’t see the light
Fast rappers can’t speed by this, you better slow down
Because i’m puttin the brakes on your ass like midas
Nope, it don’t matter what type of slang you drop
I give you rope and you still can’t hang with the ak
For years i put ears through therapy
Watch a episode of cheers before you come try the beer with me
I graduated from lobbies, bangin on walls for a hobby
I battle anybody, even a dead body
I got rhymes that would attack ya
So you better watch your back, or fuckin hire a chiropractor
Ain’t nuthin change from before, slap niggaz with mani-cures
Stomp you down, after a pedi-cure
Here’s another lesson, i’m not a quiz
So that talk about me not gettin biz that’s out of the question
It’s a ak, jam, god damn don’t get slammed
You catch the backhand, word to my dead man
You best to rest if you want peace
Cause like a hooker from up the street, i’m down for beef
I’m hotter than a sauna again the drama is rugged
Word to sinead o’connor, i be tearin shit up
Cause i sprayin immaculate, like a mac-11..

* impossible to make out the rest of the verse with voiceovers *

I take you to london worldwide
I take you to europe worldwide
Come back to queens worldwide
I take you to russia worldwide
I take it to the north pole worldwide
I bring it back to queens
I give it to em worldwide
I take it to the west indies
I give it to em worldwide
I take you to india
I give it to em worldwide
I bring it back to queens
I give it to em worldwide
I take it to germany
I give it to em worldwide
I take it to…

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Worldwide (Letra)

Master P

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Verse 1: sen-dog
You better hope i’m chained up, shackled with a yard
I’ll snatch you by the neck, bide you like a tech
Wreck fools when i disconnect, make you sweat
Shit your pants, get in yuor step on my advance
Catch a glance of the legendary brother who carries
Your body and buries two more lyrics in styles varied
Fool what? you ain’t got nothin’ to say
I been backin’ up east side la, all day
Blowin’ up the best techs, the best flex
Havin’ the best sex, fuckin’ in wessex
The hardcore shit, i know you like it raw
‘cause ain’t no other dog breakin’ the last straw

Chorus (2x): b-real
You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga
‘cause you rollin’ with the hill and what counts is uh,
Can you hang with us? you wanna bang with us?
Cypress hill, worldwide, los angeles

Verse 2: sen-dog
I don’t bark, i just bite, mangle and maim niggas up
Check your strap, they mangle us and pick us up
Fool, now you tremblin’, i give you three seconds
To break out before you resemblin’ a dead man
A hole through your headband
My gat’s in my right hand, my plug’s in my left hand, punk
Cypress hill worldwide, you just a local
Don’t anger me, or you can hear it in my vocal
You don’t want that strap on my hip
To deal out, the repercussions dug a fat lip
I’m buckin’ at the room soon to the boom
Fuckin’ with your head like the ‘shroom you consume

Chorus

Verse 3
(br) bitches, you’re all thick-eyed, a weak ride
I take money-money, make dummies all night
Use the mic, bruise the mic, we choos the mic
When you sorry niggas go off and lose the mic
(sd) we choose a life right, we roll with crew tight
See the light at the end of a tunnel – a gat barrel
Wettin’ up your flyest apparel, a cane ray
You forget me and i’ll be back to refresh your fuckin’ memory
Remember me now, cypress hill soldier
Up and down the boulevard, big money folder
You bring descript sequence with no defense
The whole defense hittin’ the bones while you sleepin’

Chorus

Worldwide (Letra)

Jars Of Clay

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Verse 1: Sen-Dog
You better hope I’m chained up, shackled with a yard
I’ll snatch you by the neck, bide you like a tech
Wreck fools when I disconnect, make you sweat
Shit your pants, get in yuor step on my advance
Catch a glance of the legendary brother who carries
Your body and buries two more lyrics in styles varied
Fool what? You ain’t got nothin’ to say
I been backin’ up east side LA, all day
Blowin’ up the best techs, the best flex
Havin’ the best sex, fuckin’ in Wessex
The hardcore shit, I know you like it raw
‘Cause ain’t no other Dog breakin’ the last straw

Chorus (2x): B-Real
You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga
‘Cause you rollin’ with the Hill and what counts is uh,
Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us?
Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles

Verse 2: Sen-Dog
I don’t bark, I just bite, mangle and maim niggas up
Check your strap, they mangle us and pick us up
Fool, now you tremblin’, I give you three seconds
To break out before you resemblin’ a dead man
A hole through your headband
My gat’s in my right hand, my plug’s in my left hand, punk
Cypress Hill worldwide, you just a local
Don’t anger me, or you can hear it in my vocal
You don’t want that strap on my hip
To deal out, the repercussions dug a fat lip
I’m buckin’ at the room soon to the boom
Fuckin’ with your head like the ‘shroom you consume

Chorus

Verse 3
(BR) Bitches, you’re all thick-eyed, a weak ride
I take money-money, make dummies all night
Use the mic, bruise the mic, we choos the mic
When you sorry niggas go off and lose the mic
(SD) We choose a life right, we roll with crew tight
See the light at the end of a tunnel – a gat barrel
Wettin’ up your flyest apparel, a cane ray
You forget me and I’ll be back to refresh your fuckin’ memory
Remember me now, Cypress Hill soldier
Up and down the boulevard, big money folder
You bring descript sequence with no defense
The whole defense hittin’ the bones while you sleepin’

Chorus

Worldwide (Letra)

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Intro: lettin niggas talk that new york new york shit
What the fucks the deal?
No doubt motherfucker, what the fucks the deal man
Faggot ass niggas, niggas in new york be lettin niggas shit on em
Frontin ass niggas
First you drinkin snapple now you drinkin moe
Cuz you livin aint no reason for you to be shittin faggot
Word…go getcha guns

Some nights i wake up out my sleep blastin
Get some water for my aspirin
My life fashion, gold chains guns and cashin
Im askin do i got to be king of action
Fuck a playa fame new york is still the same
A queens thang
Representin flush reigns supreme
Its a scheme over power ya team wit cream
Man you sensitive, how you let these cats shit on your residence
With fake robberies, who shot who wit no evidence
Im bringin it, tired of niggas sittin back and seein it
Scape thru the light penetrate streets is trife
Representin from the lands of the guns and good smoke
Heavy shines, poppin them lines and cut throats
Dont provoke and getcha team smoke for broke and no joke
You just a boy you not bad enough to compete wit challengers
Bustin off the guns wit the silencers
Word….new york new york big city of dreams
Comin from queens, where we dont get caught up in between
Wit the nonsense, all these pussy niggas actin sex
Takin off your chest, bring it to the desert where i rest
South east to west, bustin straight slugs thru your vest

Chorus
Worldwide worldwide wherever people startin
Keep your mind on queens when the dog starts barkin

Verse 2
Its time to dead your whole situation
New york is full of murderers, guns and court cases
Baggin wit razors bring me no-chaser
That be that wasteland flavor
Its major, vibratin thru the states like a pager
Whose the one to blame
When you get stuck for gold chains
Shootin close range, half of these niggas died in the game
Its a city game, blastin at cops by all means
Keep it real thru out queens
Catchin jooks for cream
On the tap phone, fuckin wit niggas thats far from home
G-s’s chrome, makin power moves like capone
Shits zone fuckin wit nigga flush holds his own
Guarnateed to blow, puffin on trees do i go
Way low, kidnappin children for dough thats how it go
Place a criminal minds traces are hard to find
To commit crime, half of these niggas is droppin dimes
Here the time, blowin your block just like a mine
Flushing design, keep my neck flooded wit shine
Im out to get it, you billed somethin sweet
Go getcha heat and your peeps
And findin body parts on the streets

Chorus

Worldwide (Letra)

Akinyele

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[rob-o]
Who keeps it methods and orthodox, who caught the props
Who’s styles are shit, who’s gonna rock?
On to the break of dawn, you wanna battle, pay the price
Mathematically precise, smooth and plus nice
With a flow that’s like a mailman or letter carrier
Rob-o brings the ghetto area
Funk flavor through your neighborhood, state, town, or borough
Stay down, i don’t think i’m quite thorough
Not your average rapper (listen)
Cause in a sec i write some shit to blast your wack ass to mecca
See rob’s the most mecca
To grab the microphone and yes y’all it
To school these dreds and stress these bald heads
The ini’s in the house (you don’t stop)
Pete rock, grap luva, mark, and polo rising and you don’t stop
We let the funk slide and let god be our guide
Flowing from the vernon worldwide

[pete rock]
It’s the funk god, taking you worldwide, so bust it
Flowing over beats cause it’s a must, kid
That i proceed to fix the hardcore in the mix
Check one two with the flow that fits
I make the hits that soar, i put the wreck in the raw
’94 in your local record store
It’s pete rock and cl, the main ingredient
Now leave your wack style home, cause you won’t be needing it
I grab the mic and get wreck for real
You hear me on the wax, kid, you see me on the steel
Can you feel the funk as i inject?
Then god protect it, hold the mic, see i select it
To keep it crazy versatile
But still underground, packs the four pound cause it’s wild
In this place you’ll find it hard to hide
Soul brother and i’m going worldwide

[rob-o]
Now who’s the greatest? few debate this, you’re still figuring?
Well perish the thought, there’s none bigger in
This act son, mecca is all i attract
You’re wack, son, yeah your talent’s a fraction
While i’m nice, as christ, there’s two religions
So envision a messiah on a mission, the competition
I’ll stop your wishing point blank cause you lost it
Your joint sank, your soft style’s exhausted
And now it’s mandatory, you stand before me amazed and awed
Giving praise, you’re the god
Rob cipher’s born, most mecca supreme
A fly mc with the self-esteem
You keep it wholesome and still i relax a bit
I play your shit out like ??? cause my wig out has to hit
I’m steadily encouraging head bops while you’re scurrying to get props
I’m worldwide

[pete rock]
Yo, check out the rhyme buster, pulling niggas through the wringer
I’m not a singer, as i conduct with one finger
It’s the orchestrater, mutilator, master funktator
I’ve got mad flow from here to asia
Cause i’ll amaze ya with the skills that i possess
Knock out the rhymes with all the rest
So i suggest if you’re in the way step aside
Cause pete rock is coming worldwide