Search By:

Search Gospel Albums by Letter:



Artist: TBone

Songs on "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Free MP3 Music Download

12 Years Ago - View 12 Years Ago Lyrics
A Few Good Men - View A Few Good Men Lyrics
Bounce - View Bounce Lyrics
Can I Live - View Can I Live Lyrics
Follow T - View Follow T Lyrics
Hard Streets - View Hard Streets Lyrics
I Been Looking Around - View I Been Looking Around Lyrics
It's OK - View It's OK Lyrics
Let That Thang Go - View Let That Thang Go Lyrics
Shake Ya Body - View Shake Ya Body Lyrics
The Sanction
You Can'T Win

12 Years Ago Lyrics

12 years ago, a friend of mine
Asked me to spit these MC rhymes
So I said this rhyme I'm about to say
The beat was dope, and it went this way...

Well my name is T, from the golden state
They call San Andreas cause I cause earthquakes
Been rhyming on the mic since the age of 8
The fans and the people tell me that I'm great
Yall can hate, but they relate, trying to get all of you walking through them pearly gates
I been to city's all around the globe, Nicaragua
Australia down to Tokyo, Lima Peru and London back to San Tropez
When I'm in Paris France pale vu France
Seen me on TV and on big screens
Now I'm crushing MC's like they jelly beans
Now get both of them hands in tha air
And wave em all around like in around like B-Boys in flair
We bringing the noise, and a raising our voice
Plus I keep it old school like the Beastie Boys.

I had to take this rhyme back to the 80's
When rap was bout skills DJ's and the ladies
Didn't rhyme about sex and degrading themselves
And rappers didn't glorify busting em' shells
This is a hip-hop blast from the past, stop
All the violence put away all the straps
Better enjoy the music cuz it's not gonna last
If we keep on glorifying all the killing and gats
The milies and Mac's the chronic and hash and the cats slanging perico on the corner for cash
We gotta try to make a change for the better, and stop
Selling out for the fame and the cheddar, put down berretta
Quit throwing up letters
I'm trying to make a difference it ain't getting no better
That's why I came to represent for all of my people
Wit conscious rap Chico, cuz it's almost illegal

Peace love and respect to Run DMC, LL Cool J, and the treacherous three
Kool G Rap and Kool Mo Dee, Marley Marl, Kool Herc and Kid Capri
I was blessed to make records wit KRS, now I'm hustling hard trying to resurrect the West
One love to all the people that passed away, Big Pun, Pac, Biggie, Jam Master Jay

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

A Few Good Men Lyrics

Strap up the boots, I'm ready to shoot
Load the ammo, Bone Soprano wit glocks and green camo
I play rappers like they grand pianos, a general
Call shots like I'm Joe Bonanno, what, The West is back
Sep this dude ain't black, he Latino dogg and rock Gringos
Black, Indians, Palestinians, and Phillipinos, and cash money like Vegas casinos
I'm armed and ready, palms is sweaty, kinda like em
Sep I got a sharp machete, and I'm quick to toss wack rappers of a levy
Words is heavy, kinda like a 6-4 Chevy, uh
Hip-Hop will never be the same, it's time for change
I'm bout to rearrange the game, ready to fight back
So when they say who's that, tell em it's just the king of the conscious rap

See all we need is just a few good men
Cuz ain't to many left like Bone and Mack 10,
We know nobody's perfect, so repent for ya sins
So ya better get it straight, cuz he's coming again
(Whisper) He's watching

Mack 10 -
I got the hood on smash homey
And though I'm ballin' full throttle
I'll never run outta gas homey
I'm so fly as the days go by I'm better
So I dump re-up and keep getting more cheddar
You know what it do
Mack 10 a savage
Got hustle in my veins so I fiend for the cabbage
Fresh baller to the end
Tell a friend and a neighbor
Aint that I got so much flavor
It's that I got so much favor
I'm like Pac I get's down, against all odds
And you don't wanna go to war with a child of God
So if you see me in a six four
Tuck ya pistol
Plus it's on if ya miss
So be careful what ya wish for
A rhyme sayer wit respect like the mayor
Plus your arms is to short to box wit God playa
See I'm all for Jesus but I'm nothing like Mase
I'm to ghetto and gutter
But I'm covered in his grace, yea!

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Bounce Lyrics

This is strictly for them low low's, el Camino and Chevrolet Impalas
Bouncing from California all the way to Nicaragua
Sixteen switches, rides is vicious, bouncing like bad checks
Candy apple, licorice, twirling a hundred spokes, this one's for my folks
Black's Philippinos, Caucasians, Latinos, gotta know the rules when you up in this game
If you want a piece of the street, fast and furious fame
Then yo, mira bro, first of pinta lo, see them windows dogg, tinta lo
Juice it up wit hydraulics then brinca lo, blast this in the fosgate and let the speakers blow
In the, Escalade, then escapade, like Janet, to the car show
Pump the breaks, take first place, smile, then collect the cake
Dall up the homie E-Dogg, then it's time to shake

Bounce, Bounce, Cadillac trucks and jeeps
From the Bronx to the Compton streets, for the clubs
Mix shows and my peeps, ahhhh
Now everybody bounce, bounce

I been know to bring the heat to the instrumental, check the credentials
My fundamentals essential for reaching killas and thug generals
In the streets where they packing the heat, creep
Throw up em gang signs and C-walk to the beat, strictly
Taking the preaching the word to those smoking the herb
Sharing the real for em dealers serving crack on the curb, swerve
To the left then I scrape my plates, now I'm dipping hopping initiating sparks on the interstate
Feels so great in the golden state, cool breeze from the ocean on the golden gate
I can't wait for the weekend we can make it a date, Motorola 2 way
The homies tell em meet me at eight, at the studio so we can blaze the track
Like Kobe and Shaq, wit back to back platinum tracks
We aint quitting yall yo we bringing the heat, like Pacino and Luchiano for the thugs in the streets

Now if ya feeling what I'm saying throw ya hands in the sky
Party people from California all the way to Hawaii, ATL and South Beach where the mamis look fine
To the streets of Spanish Harlem for my peeps in NY
Mexicano O Cubano, Panameno, Columbiano, Argentino, Chileno, Nicoya O Puerto Riceno
Yo it don't really matter this a T-Bone party
So throw ya hands up in the sky mama move ya body
No Bacardi, Hennessey, Chronic, beer or Chocolate tie
Why? Cuz this is how we do it when we naturally high
Now watch me rock like Nirvana, what up mama I'm the don dada known to mix it up like Santana

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Can I Live Lyrics

Why can't yall leave me alone
Man seem like everybody be judging me
Talking behind my back, faking the smiles then hugging me
Pointing fingers hating jealous of my success praying for my downfall
Can't handle me being blessed, naw
You'd rather see me at the bottom of the totem poll
Scraping for dollars, on the edge bout to lose control
Back on the corner still living in tha projects
Still struggling down and out wit no prophets
Still driving through the hood in a bucket
I'm bout bringing my people over like I'm Harriet Tubman
Been through the fire like Kanye West
Beat the odds now I'm on shuffles and ipods
See most of yall could never reach stature
Cuz half of you gangsta rappers is gangsta actors
And backstabbers yall got the game backwards
But Bone and Darkchild make hits like linebackers

Can I live
If you wanna be in my shoes then get in
You can talk the talk
But ain't lived the life I live
So can I live, that's the question, can I...(2x)

I shed blood sweat and tears
Been on this grind for years
I'm at the top of the charts, no respect from peers
I could be the franchise still I'm chastised, spreading ya lies
Need to recognize there's two sides, my whole life been the underdog
Against the odds back still against the wall
Fighting to represent in the ring for God
Consciously making records for a different cause
This crab game keep pulling me down, but like Ron Artest been known to rebound
And like Roy Jones I'm pound for pound spitting a different kind of message over platinum sounds
Can I, get some love and a little respect
Can I, rock ya world without giving ya sex
Can I, live in peace man I paid my dues
You'll never know where I been until ya walked in my shoes

I'm in it for the long hall
Committed to the end like John Paul
I'm trying to make a change, throw stones if I'm wrong
If you can do it better, then by all means, shoot for the stars
But stop crushing all of my life's dreams, and let me fulfill my destiny and purpose
Quit trying to make me feel no good and worthless
This life is all a playa got to give, so back up and give me room to breath can I live

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Follow T Lyrics

You can catch me in the big body S-Class wit chrome spinners
Pulling up to the club wit a brim, ice and the chinchilla
Stacking that skrilla in a legal way
Rock stadiums from Nicaragua down to San Tropez, hey
And I ain't even gotta curse in my raps
I keep it gully while I'm spitting this fire on hot tracks
My skills speak for themselves
I'm like a young LL back in the day when he was rocking the bells
The Sly Stallone of the microphone, I'm old school like Special K
Turbo and Ozone, rep for my people like I'm Che Guevara
Wit a derby and linen pants plus a guallavera
Oh, I'm so sick they sending ambulances to resuscitate the mic from my verbal thrashing
Cash advances, and top brand fashion
Guaranteed to rock the spot and keep the party peeps dancing

I had to switch up the flow for all the DJ's spinning wax in the club
So when ya hear my joint yall better turn it up, louder
Suvelo, blast that music bro, respect the flow, ya listening to a music pro
The Burt Bacharach of rap is back ready to make ya move ya body And lean back like Joe Crack
Woah get ya hands in the air and wave them back and forth in the atmosphere
I know ya wondering if the rumors are true, believe the hype
I am the dopest rapper to come through wit brand new series of rap arts like kung fu
You don't believe me, ya crew could get hung to
I run through anybody opposing
Don't make me have to tell you again
I'm Gods chosen, like Peter, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
Now everybody just bounce to this new hit song, What!

From sold out arenas to the silver screen
I move crowds and drop hits that make the people scream
Stack cream, get chauffeured in stretched out limousines
I'm a hot album, you just a ahhh 16
T-Bone is hard as it gets and I don't fly first class, why?
I travel with chef's on private jets
That's why you mad and upset, homie
I paid my dues though, been ripping these mic's since tape decks
So place your bets, I'm the best yet
Move the crowd and make ya bounce like bad checks
I got next, like the WNBA, defeating me is like blacks joining the KKK
It won't happen, like hoods without guns clapping
Or hip-hop wit no DJ's and MC's rapping
It's contradictory, none of you'll ever get wit me
The dopest to ever breathe on a mic and claim victory

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Hard Streets Lyrics

See I was only 16 such a tender age
A young seed leaving my home in search of ghetto fame
Mom's begging me to stay, crying but yo I gotta make it on my own now
I'm tired of hustling, plus I'm almost full grown now
Packed up my bags in now pursuit of my dreams
Gave her a kiss then wiped the tears from eyes so that she couldn't see
Jumped in the car starring up at the stars
Rhyming for hours hoping one day I'm a hear the applause
Now I'm 17, still broke loc, no money
Holes in my shoes and people laughing cuz my clothes crummy
No food to eat so now I'm digging in the trash can
Eating left over food from last week in tha bags man
I never thought that it could get this hard, pray to God
Then I get to stepping, cuz I know that I'm called
I told myself I gotta keep the faith living inside, knowing I'll make it one day
So I can't just lay down and die, I gotta try man!

What are these hard streets doing to me
Ghetto running through me
Thicker than blood, down in the mud
Trying to come up, these hard streets do it to me
Ghetto running through me
Thicker than blood, down in tha mud
Trying to come up another day

It's 1991 getting older now
Kicked out my crib nowhere to live
Wit problems and the world on my shoulders now
If I go home mom will think I'm a loser
And if I call the homie then he'll think I'm trying to use em
So now I'm stuck, sleeping on my managers sofa
Even though I know he's ripping me off
Trying to play me like a game of poker
Congested wit depression I proceed to try and count my blessing like
The fact I'm still alive, I could have died on these mean streets
Cuz they ain't kind, so many killers and dealers committing horrible crimes
Dope fiends, drive-by's, muggers and drug smugglers
No one expecting me to make it cuz I'm from the gutter
A young G from the streets of killa cal,
Where riders pack heat and smoke weed as a juvenile
It's all good though, I'm out to prove em all wrong
Reach for the stars, and show em one day I'm a be the bomb!

I'm sick of all the heartaches, let downs, broken promises and feeling hopeless
I'm tired of being rejected and all the disappointments
Feeling like I ain't worth a dime
Partners telling me I'm the greatest, but there's no deal to sign
Crying, devastated and confused at the same time
My mind is telling me to quit and God's saying try
My heart is telling me it's over and I'll never rhyme
But something's telling me prevail and it will be fine

See there's always so much drama
From tha block or ya babies mama
In these streets that's where my peeps be running that game
Why ya trying to run me over, like I'm trying to snatch ya corner
In these streets gotta get your grind on
All day long gotta grind get ya hustle on

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

I Been Looking Around Lyrics

Growing up we didn't have much
I still remember mom in the welfare line
Pops on the corner slanging flowers trying to make a dime
Hustling hard, working beyond a nine to five
Praying somebody stop but cars just keep passing him by
My older sister ran away and chose a life of crime
My younger sister getting calls from these older guys
I still hear the sound of them sirens running through my mind
Saw grandma die in a stretcher before my very eyes
And who could forget the flames coming outta my room
Wit firefighters trying to save everything that ain't ruined
It's bad enough we barely making ends meet
Now we ain't even got a blanket or a place to sleep, man
We all been through struggles and em' harder times
And at times it seems like there ain't no peace of mind
But just, when I started to doubt, thinking nobody cares
I looked up and found that you was always right there

Still looking for, keep looking for
Out searching, nothing working, steady looking for...
Still waiting for, keep waiting for
True love, one love, what we waiting for...

Moved to Southern Cali and bought me a baller crib
Wit marble floors, high ceilings and a pool to swim
I got a, lot of famous high profile friends
A white Benz laced wit them chrome spinning rims
Top dollar brand fashion and a Jacob watch
Bracelet wit canaries and em flawless rocks
I went from playa hated to Grammy nominated
To making movies wit Cuba and Beyonce now they say I made it
Finally got my music making all the headlines
Radio spinning my single back to back 10 times
But still it wasn't everything that I thought it be
Found me searching for love and life's remedy
Money bought me cars, power and yachts
I'm still distraught, got my stomach tangled in knots
Sad and depressed, finally after everything I been through
I found out the only thing that was missing was you

We all pretty much looking for the same thang
We soul searching trying get through life's long maze
I been to mountain tops looking for the most high
So many valleys lows, never thought I'd get by
So many shattered dreams, all the broken promises
Lied to, left for dead, emotional apocalypse
We all looking for the answers of what and why
Choose win or loose in this life we can live or die
And never fill that empty space that we feel inside
I know ya hurting, see the pain written in ya eyes
Tried the drugs, tarot cards, and astrology
Blaze up the purple haze, transcend reality
Trying leave all of your problems behind
And some of yall put ya faith a nine
I got mine when I, gave up tha life
Swapped it out for the better one
Finally found true wealth, Never gonna find myself...

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

It's OK Lyrics

I show ya how to do it now homie, cuz its ok
To make positive music now baby, put all of the guns away
I keep it gully for the streets and gangstas, but I'm trying to make a change
Cuz there's to many of my dogs and comrades, homies done past away

Coming up in my early days, I was raised around blacks and essays
And thugs wit short tempers that are quick to spray
Then throw up a gang sign reppin they set
I'm from the west man, this is bout as hard as it gets
Tha projects saturated wit drugs and dealers
And the streets consist of the guns and cold killas
It's bad enough man the odds is against me
And homies in the hood just wanna bang and smoke hemp trees
They say the only way for me to push Bentley's is ride and bust bullets till the whole clip empty
All these demons slowly trying to tempt me
You'll never make a difference bone, but God sent me to
Revolutionize the style the used to
And reach all of the gangstas in them khakis and zoot suits
Came to try to make some of you open your eyes
And realize what really happens homie after you die

Will the killing ever cease, it's like we got a sick disease
That makes us, pack a piece, in these cold heart streets
Gotta break the generational curse, hurts to see these young brothers getting hauled off in a hearse What's worse, is we promote it though songs and movies
Banned the passion of the Christ, but endorse glocks and Uzis
Then we wonder why are kids is dying, bullets flying
Gangsta's riding and gangs multiplying, at such fast rapid rate
Could it be all the hero's man kind create
We teach children how to murder in these video games
So all they do is imitate what's inside of their brain
Cuz to them all of the killing is cool, so they pack in the backpacks then shoot up the school
And then leave them other children wounded and dead
Then realize what they did and turn the gun to they head

Raised in a dangerous place where thugs pack heat, creep
Throw up em blue flags, C-walk to tha beat, blast from tha jeep
Then leave you in tha back of your seat, face down in a pool of blood
Resting in peace, mark of the beast is plotting trying to leave us deceased
Bullets flying throughout our neighborhoods roaming tha streets
It's a war zone where we willing, patnas dying and got collect calls from tha prison
Twice a day, inside tha land of tha murderers crooks and armed burglars
Pimps, and curb servers and golden state warriors
That ya gotta be ready to die, gotta decide, could be facing 20 to life
In a 6 by 9 cell, in jail wit no bail, just waiting to get mail
Where destiny is hell, you should a known gangstas never retire
It's blood, blood out, homie, devil's a liar

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Let That Thang Go Lyrics

I'm trying to change this music, my nizzle
It's official, I'm tired of hearing heaters that whistle and sizzle when gangstas pull out they pistols
I'm like money trying to get in the middle and settle the difference
Cuz too many rappers is tripping, don't nobody wanna listen
Plus I'm tired of all the cussing and cursing
So I started rehearsing working on converting a better version
For every person that's hurting lurking searching for life's purpose
Feeling suicidal and worthless but you ain't certain
If you ready to die and leave this earth's surface then cross over
And see what's on the side of this life's curtain
Call me the Moses of rap, taking it back to tha days when this artifact
Wasn't bout the woman and gats
I'm sick of this rap, matter a fact
How many more women you find to pimp, and gangstas we gonna cap
We murdered them all, Pac and Biggie there ain't here anymore
Better do something, sound the trumpet, cuz' I'm goin to war

To all the playas popping off at the lip, oh
Fronting the street game like you a pimp, no
Ya coming up but going down wit tha ship, bro
Ya better let that thang go
And all tha ladies that be shaking they hips, oh
Up in tha strip clubs stacking em chips, no
Top of tha world, but you down in tha pits, ma
Ya better let that thang go

It's the Nicaraguan son of Big Pun, who flip tongs
On kick drums, and leave rappers like victims from big guns
Better panic, cuz I'm charismatic and automatic
When it comes to this phonographic magic, I gotta have it
Like an addict, I'm the magnet pulling these Asiatic and Hispanics bandits
To make em put down tha cannons, I'm standing for unity in rural communities
Filled with darkness and cruelty, where men get woman paid off of nudity
It's soon to be all over, I crossover barriers of hate and racism plus I bring the Cross over
I'm out to change all the images in our villages, and all the religious criticisms from church citizens
Always pointing, judging, shrugging ya shoulders at the adulterers, fornicators, and cobras
But never question our culture, Biggie prophesied ready to die
50 took 5 and got rich and Pac's mamma still crying

Suckas surfing the internet trying to find kids for sex, and placing bets
Credit card fraud is next, they write them checks for chicks on em porno flicks
When they shake they hips sick wit them chain and whips it gets
Even worse, truth hurts, don't be mad at me, I ain't the one getting paid enhancing they anatomy
And gradually, they rotten out like bad cavities, then periodically prostituting and armed robberies
This how we raise the little children of America to grow up and be criminal, rapist, and bomb terrorist
From the second they're born, innocent but torn
Between these 2 worlds fighting for souls, like tug a war
Who's keeping score got juveniles in the morgue, while killas winning awards
And steady and praising the Lord, they cheer and roar
Ego tripping has gotta stop, gotta shine and rhyme in his name instead of hip-hop

How many more of our people gotta die
Before we decide, genocide isn't only in war
It's also in the words that we write
We got tha power

I keep it gully like a Cali general running the streets, ya freeze when I speak
Memorized my style is unique, we bringing the heat like the Bahamas talking the word
From Nicaragua to communist countries like China, Iraq and Havana, canta lo, Godson levanta lo
They lace the beats then I rock the flow, she hit them notes
Collab then we rock the show, think we blessed
No doubt, count the dough, we make about oh 25-30 a show
People flying from other countries just to hear tha Bone flow
Sick wit the skills to the point that they wanna honor me
But I'm not honoree I'm on the Rock like Sean Connery
And yall fond of me, the rest is just wanna be's

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Shake Ya Body Lyrics

All you rappers gonna wish I never got in the game
Cuz when I get my first hit, everything fina change
The whips and slang, medallions on yo platinum chains
From the art of spitting to darn near everything in between
Move around now, get up and dance now
Get out ya chair, get on the floor
Go on and bounce now, I move crowds like security guards
Plus I'm hard as it gets, even when I'm reppin my God
So everybody in the building wave ya hands and get down
From the inner city's and suburbs to them country cow towns
I'm stacking chips like Doritos and casino tables
And pushing whips like em valet's at them record label's
Move around now, get up and dance now
Get out ya chair, get on the floor now, go on and bounce now
Life is good when ya blessed wit all the finer things
Got piece of mind, from the grind, plus em diamond rings!

Shake ya body like ya got the holy ghost now
Shake ya body like your shivering cuz it's cold out
Shake ya body got the wiggle in your soul now
Shake ya body what, shake ya body what

Who could it be, on the M-I-C yall ain't gotta tell me
Everybody in the club is fond of me, cuz how I rock em beats
I ain't R&B, and all of you haters just a bunch of punk wanna be's
I don't, pack a piece, cuz I'm bout the peace
Even though you suckas wanna try to pull and squeeze
Well goin release, I aint scared, I'm on my knees
I'm a really keep it real with the Jesus piece
I got yall tripping pimping, by the way that I be ripping spitting
All of these lyrical styles that got the crowd jumping
Over a beat that's hitting, hitting, chicken, grits, and catfish
Love it wit a side of greens and beans in my dish
You know it's all good when I slide through the hood
Cuz I represent my people the way that a playa should
Et love from all the homies in the red and the blue
Mexicanos y cubanos and em white boys too
I stay true to the game, I ain't new to the game
Still keeping it gospel and prey, when I, rip the mic
Cuz I'm dynamite, like JJ
Then all the people tell me show ya right
It's on tonight, I know you love the way I write
And I'm a make all of the rappers wanna die tonight
Still holy ghost filled, freed from sin
I keep it holy plus I make the bread, got that water
That will never ever wanna make you thirst again
And I'm psycho when I grab the pen
Make miracles happen when I'm up in the vocal booth
And everybody always tripping cuz I spit the truth, to reach the youth
You suckas better call a truce, or I'm a have all of you rappers shaking in ya boots
You'll probably never catch me packing a knife
But I'm cutting rappers to death with all the words that I write
The truth and the light, is what I'm representing tonight
By the end of the night I'll have the crowd ready to fight
So throw ya hands up, throw ya hands up, all my people if ya wit me go on and stand up
Making inspirational music for em killas and thugs, tell em to
Put away them heaters, stop slanging em drugs
Got get them, gangstas and riders, make songs
Trying to get inside, tired of, hearing all em sirens
Can I, get a moment of silence, sick of the violence
Murders, and burglars, and curb servers, concerning em burners
Ya better believe they concern us, they con earners
With the gift to gab, ready to stab, used to be conscious
Now they conscious has gone bad, they living really hard
And quick to pull ya card, don't make me holla, dogg
I'm bout to get my bodyguards

Back to "Bone-A-Fide" Album

Contact Us

All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2011-2021 All Rights Reserved.