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Download http://hiringtone.com/Shyne_the_life

Full Song Lyrics:

It’s a new day in the rap game!
Nobody sells records but Shyne Po!

[Verse 1]
My life had it’s ups and downs, but I don’t regret nothin’
I had the whole tri-state high, nigga I ain’t frontin’
at Fifteen I sold my first bag of dope
used to stick Dominicans, burner under the coat
gettin’ like 15 grams, a half a Ki
at Fifteen man, a nigga just glad to be
gettin’ some shorts, me and my Man from a Hundred and Fifth
he knew some Dominican niggas that wanted a clique
to hold ‘em down, shoot niggas in the head
throw ‘em out windows if they were late with the bread
basically I’m enforcin’
around heavy coke, when nobody’s lookin’ I’d be dippin’ in the portion
they wasn’t missin’ it
so I got my hustle on the side, flippin’ it
sellin’ like 500 bottles and Nicks, started minor
but I always knew I’d turn a big apple into cider.

Niggas…niggas just ain’t built like me…
stand up niggas…since 15
I been servin’ fiends and loadin’ magazines…
takin’ shots..burnin’ blocks..
this ain’t no fuckin’ rap.

[Verse 2]
Everything was everything ’till my Man got pinched
he had a shoot-out with the cops in front of the precinct
other than that, I went from enforcer to movin’ product, straight white
powder now, gettin’ it
the hardest nigga in the street
my first car was a 190 Benz with Louie Vaton seats
buyin’ out the bar at the rooftop
I had a few spots
one called the jukebox
where I was gettin’ like 50 a brick
2 or 3 bricks a day, makin’ mothafuckas sick
my Cousin Ron a crook from the Brook was torchin’
any niggas whisperin’ or talkin’ ’bout extortion
shit was goin’ right and only one better
when I got my Italian connect, hittin’ me with pure Heroin
moved to 116th, started seein’ real dinero then
empire buildin’, the shit was takin’ flight
had my bitches cuttin’ up like 10 Ki’s a night
mixin’ lactose, Bonita, and Quenii
I was the first Black nigga with mafia ties
leased my soul to the Devil with the option to buy.

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Download http://hiringtone.com/Shyne_Bad_Boyz

Full Song Lyrics:

[shyne]
Now tell me who want to fuck with us?
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
I bang - and let your fuckin brains hang, snitches
Fuck marla maple bitches with riches
Who carry 22’s, up in they hosiery
A black teller when my father bust and unloaded me
Think he just finished sniffin a ki, and dippin the d’s
Don’t hate me, hate nicky barnes for hittin my moms
Letting the condom pop, nigga I was born in the drop
Coke boil in the pot, shake the feds
And bust shots at them street cops
Fuck yo’ point is? my point is double fours at your fuckin jaws
Pointed, hollow point shit
Four-point-six, need I say more?
Or do you get the point bitch? c’mon

What type of nigga slang and bang in the streets? (bad boyz)
What type of nigga stay in the trump for weeks? (bad boyz)
What type of nigga fly bentley coupes? (bad boyz)
Aim for the sky, cop the shit then shoot ..

[shyne]
Minks draggin on the floor - bangin on your whore
Suckin the croissant just examine it for flaws
Pour the cristal on the way to trial, rico law
Got a nigga head hurtin squirtin til they pull the curtain
Let the money drip dry, hundred dollar bills
Wipe the tears from my eyes, no love
Fuck y’all niggaz, hope you die a slow death
As I coke-test and see the lawyers talk of protest
Can’t fuck with you weak rap niggaz, witcha gay raps
Runnin ‘round talkin this and talkin that
See me in the streets, tried to give me dap
Andrew cunanan ass niggaz
My two cannons blast niggaz, ass niggaz
Got me fucked up in the game, get your shirt stained
Keep your five mics nigga, give me the ‘caine
Do the shit to clean my money dummies, gleamed the wrist out
Cop the pist-al, nigga, talk shit now, uh

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Get the ringtone:

http://www.ringtonegal.com/Nas/My-Country-/

Full Song Lyrics:

American born, american raised, american made

chorus 2x
My country shitted on me my country
She wants to get rid of me naw, never
Cause the things I seen we know too much
Cause the things I seen we seen too much

verse 1 nas
It was packed on the ryker’s bus
The tight cuffs is holdin’ me shackled
The life of a thug caught in the devil’s lap
On the streets I was invincible
Cowards would duck at a glimpse if they knew
What my pistol would do, a fkin’ killa
Mothers of dope fiend embarrassin’ me
All in front of my friends
In the street smile with no teeth
I never knew daddy, heard he had a 72 caddy
Died in a robbery, can’t remember him, was probably 3
Why didn’t my folks just die in this society
Why wasn’t I a child of a doctor, who left stocks for me
Two little brothers, two sisters, them shortiez gots to eat
Mother’s a junkie, she twisted, so all they got is me
I’m the provider, with goals to do much better than my father
Whether through drugs sold, or holdin’ revolvers
Blurry visions of dad holdin’ me high
It comes to me slowly, the words he would cry

repeat chorus

verse 2 millenium thug
It is I that step up
Me that don’t give a fk, you that bold, then it’s all over soldier
Hummers and range’s through the desert
Fk a 20 years, long as we got gas and we got water
Troopers lookin’ for manslaughter
I gotta get back, for what they owe
Shoot′em in the back for the get back
Lead through shit bag, hold tie gag
Forget the life had, now we all rebels
Everything burnt down includin’ the ghetto
We can see 4 miles the land it’s major rubble
And debris from the earth as we knew crumble
Yo you could see the sea
And the stars look closer to me

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Download http://hiringtone.com/Three_6_Mafia_Ghetto_Chick

Full Song Lyrics:

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I love a ghetto ass chick, break down rings for me
If I would let her shoot, she’ll count up this cheese for me
It’s going down like I knew it would
We gon’ keep on makin money cause this honey is good

[Juicy J]
I need a down ass chick, thatll roll wit the clique
For the dope sale, bank robbin, cock it back and buck up on a bitch
Kidnap vamp, leave a busters body, in a ditch
Take the charge for you, always drinking liquor
Stayin lit, when we in the bed, baby girl can ride
Like a champ, give a playa head, lickin on my thang
Like a stamp, if I had that I wouldnt trade anything
For her she my main girl, main dog, thats my name, Paul

[DJ Paul]
Now I can’t say that I love her, but I got some love for her
She showed me, she was bout a haul before I really knowed her
I schooled her bout them glocks, I schooled her bout them rocks
I told her how to hold a spot when I was off the block
She kept it hot, as soon as I stepped in the house she had my money spot
Plus a dro blunt rolled up with a syrup lollipop
The hood tried to holler everyday but it ain’t nothin
She down with the King but I still love a ghetto ass chick

[Chorus]

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Get the ringtone:

http://www.ringtonegal.com/Mark-Ronson/Valerie-/

Full Song Lyrics:

Well sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water
And I think of all the things, what you’re doing and in my head I make a picture

‘Cos since I’ve come on home, well my body’s been a mess
And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress
Won’t you come on over, stop making a fool out of me
Why won’t you come on over Valerie, Valerie

Did you have to go to jail, put your house on up for sale, did you get a good lawyer
I hope you didn’t catch a tan, I hope you find the right man who’ll fix it for you
Are you shopping anywhere, changed the colour of your hair, are you busy
And did you have to pay the fine you were dodging all the time are you still dizzy

Yeah

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Get the ringtone:

http://www.ringtonegal.com/Jerry-Goodman/Theme-From-Perry-Mason-/

Full Song Lyrics:

You know, it’s such a shame that it’s so hard to find good, honest legal help these days.
See, the problem with my brother and me is we’re recidivists–habitual criminal offenders. No attorney wants to go near us. I gotta find him a lawyer, and I don′t know what I’m gonna do…
The D.A. was Burger
The cop was Tragg

Perry Mason Theme lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com
Della was the secretary
Drake sat on the desk with Perry

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Get the ringtone:

http://www.ringtonegal.com/Bob-Marley–The-Wailers/My-Cup-/

Full Song Lyrics:

One cup of coffee, then I’ll go

Though I just dropped by to let you know

That I’m leaving you tomorrow

I’ll cause you no more sorrow:

One cup of coffee, then I’ll go.

I brought the money like the lawyer said to do,

But it won′t replace the ‘eartache I caused you

It won′t take the place of lovin′ you, I know,

So one cup of coffee, then I’ll go.

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Get the ringtone:

http://www.ringtonegal.com/Daniel-Johnston/Story-Of-An-Artist-

Full Song Lyrics:

A TRUE STORY
Kate Clinton, John McCutcheon, &amp Betsy Rose
One morning while reading the paper, in search of a new set of wheels
The classifieds had a most curious ad in their listing of automobiles
I read in suspicious amusement what seemed like a great stroke of luck
Corvette Stingray, it said, low mileage, bright red, ‘83 model –
sixty-five bucks
Well I was used to my newspaper’s typos, still I called up that number
straightway
‘Bout that ‘83 ‘Vette — have you sold the thing yet She said, No,
you’re my first call today
I said, There’s been some mistake in the paper, they printed the ad wrong
somehow
Oh, no, replied she, they got that from me. I said, Don’t sell that
car, I’m leaving now
Well her address was in the part of the city where I’d ventured just one
time or two
Where the doctors, bank presidents, and lawyers are residents, and the
houses are massive and new
As I drove up her half-a-mile driveway, there in the heat of the day
In the sunlight it gleamed, the car of my dreams — just sixty-five dollars
away
Well the interior was made of white leather, it had a 587 V-8
Bow wingspan doors, Hurst four-on-the-floor, and the 8-channel tape deck was
great
There was chrome on the chrome on the fender in an aerodynamic design
A phone, a TV, and it was bogglin’ to me how for sixty-five bucks it was
mine
Well I suspected the woman was crazy, to be selling the car at this price
But as we walked down the lane she seemed perfectly sane — she was charming
and really quite nice
And she smiled in such great satisfaction as she handed me title and keys
I said, I’ve just got to know why you let this thing go — what’s wrong
with this car, tell me, please
Said she, I’ll be sixty come Tuesday, and I’ve lived here with my husband
Earl
After thirty years wed, and without a word said, he left me for a young
teenage girl
With his credit cards here on the table, I knew that he couldn’t go far
Last night from Florida he sent a wire to me, said, ‘I need money, dear –
sell the car’
filename TRUSTORY
MC
DOCUMENT BOUNDARY

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Get the ringtone:

http://www.ringtonegal.com/Cuban-Link/Scandalous

Full Song Lyrics:

Don Omar
saquen los habanos, que se juntaron el boricua y el cubano, my life’s en la mano,

Chorus
scandalous 2x, so bad for me 2x,
dile que voy a pensar que me puede matar el no verla aquino verla aqui,
scandalous2x, i cant handle itcant handle it, shes more than meshes more than me, dile que voy a pensar que me pueden matar en no verla aqui el no verla aquix3

Cuban Link
verse one
yeah, yo, bori, shorty’s a naughty one,
all she wants is a forty and a blunt,
as naughty as a front, just to get the party crunk,
so rump, shake and reggaeton, and some puerto rican rum,
a thong and a pair of pumps to freak it when shes drunk,
and it’s done- I got it all recorded by the tons,
even caught it in her buns for the right amount of funds,
she stunts just for the fun of it, her story’s just to front-
for the chumps, I’m the one who taught her how to hump,
how to pump, how to bump ‘n grind, no frontin from behind,
how to become a dime, she had to be one of a kind,
now she’s something fine, sweeter than Dunkin Hines,
try to pump your mind up to sign on the dotted line,
and I ain’t having it, shes only for the bagging it,
and stabbing it, the broad seen more draws than a cabinet,
to put a cap in it, she tapped the whole hood-
like any ho would, I tell ya, she no good

Chorus
scandalous 2x, so bad for me 2x,
dile que voy a pensar que me puede matar el no verla aquino verla aqui,
scandalous2x, i cant handle itcant handle it, shes more than meshes more than me, dile que voy a pensar que me pueden matar en no verla aqui el no verla aqui x5

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