Track 1: "No Fear"
(T. Best) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by Mo' Betta' Productions, MD
Recorded and Mixed by Brian Woodring @ Popsicle Sound, Dearborn, MI
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
Chorus
(My dear, have no fear)
And my momma said
(My dear, have no fear)
Love will keep you fed
(My dear, have no fear)
But don't you be mislead
(My dear, have no fear)
Don't you talk about it
Be about it
F-ck them haters
Make 'em follow
Main Verse
Comin' up
I stayed locked in my room
Try'n to write about the sh-t that kept me confused
My momma never had a good man in life
For all you muthaf-ckaz want'n to know why I'm a dyke
All I saw was her shot and abused
Skin more colors than the rainbow's hues
At 7yrs
I could think real deep
Like how to put a crazy n-gga 6ft deep
While you stand'n there shocked and amuzed
Grab a pen, sucka
Let me give you the news
The whole world is a stage to me
And the price that you pay is who you chose to be
If I get a mill or don't get a dime
Like David Helfgot, b-tch
I'm still gone shine
And if GOD choose to put me through the fire
I hope he understand
I couldn't live as a liar
Chorus
(My dear, have no fear)
Track 2: "I Can't Stop"
(T. Best) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by Symphony for Symphonic Jointz, Detroit, MI
Recorded and Mixed by Feloni
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
Verse 1
Like Aileen Wurnos
I keep a loaded gun
I ain't afraid to pull the trigga
Don't push me, son
They say
"Hey, shorty, you can't beat a man"
But in my heart
I know that a glock and hollows can
I'm the women's champ
I don't take no sh-t
Like when your girl feel'n cramps
She don't take no d-ck
Look in my eyes
And tell me what you see, dog
A black woman
Runnin' through some thick fog
Slow down
It's twisted enough
Take a closer look
I'm a diamond in the rough
Plush
Yeah, that's me
Born and raised in the DET
But can't get no radio love
They said cuz I like the women
It might kill they buz
What
Trick, rep yo city
I swear you muthaf-ckaz straight wanna be Diddy
Come on
Chorus
If you want this
Come and get some
Verse 2
Yo
I collect all four
My anger, my drama, my thoughts and flows
Naw, I ain't no muthaf-ck'n role model
Try to be
But what I represent is hard to swallow
But I ain't got time to stop
Tick-tock to this pretty-ricky hip-hop
Damn
I know them haters be watch'n me
But I don't give a f-ck about what industry think of me
Break
(I can't stop cuz they wait'n on me)
Hold up
What the f-ck
Feloni ain't given up
And with or without you
I'ma straight up live it up
I know you wanna see me back down
But until you haters drop
I'ma ho you down, f-cka', what
Chorus
If you want this
Come and get some
Verse 3
If hip-hop is here to represent the black collective
Then what the f-ck is it without my black perspective
I'm the industry's underdog
I got the odds against me
But y'all still gon' hear me bark
Crash, burn and come back
Imagine that
I'm here to suckle the truth
Not yo similack
And tell the dopeman to give our hood some money back
Instead of pick'n they cotton
They got us pick'n crack
Instead of want'n a mule
We want a Cadillac
Instead of play'n it cool
We gotta get the ghat
Well let me do what I do
Can you handle that
Then put the judgement on lock
Cuz GOD gon' bring it back
I know some bad ass women that can make you jack
And me in love with a ho
Oh, pimp'n, never that
And if you love me for me
Yo, baby, holla back
But if you hate on me, B
It's cuz yo game is whack
Chorus
If you want this
Come and get some
Track 3: "Fien'n 4U feat Tasha Page"
(T. Best & Tasha Page) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by Rashad "Shotti" Mahammed for Nickle-Slick Productions, Detroit, MI
Recorded by Shebro Records & Brian Woodring
Mixed by Brian Woodring @ Popsicle Sound, Dearborn, MI
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamnd Records. All rights reserved.
Chorus (Tasha Page)
You got me fien'n 4U
You got me wanting you
I like the way you move
This is what I said to myself when I saw you
Verse 1
Now I'ma step up in this strip club and see what's popp'n
I know there's more go'n down than sex, women and glocks
I know you on the stage, baby, sell'n more than your soul
When I look into your face
I see more than a ho
Pull up
Let it drop
Hop back on that pole
I'ma patron of your lust, mamma, lose control
Take a shot of this Patron
So I can get you blowed
And when you feel'n free, baby, hit me up down low
I ain't try'n to disrespect you
I just want some romance
Let me take you home, baby, so I can use my hands
Got a man, f-ck him
Make a change of plans
You f-ck'n with Feloni
Detroit's new supa-gan
Chorus
You got me fien'n 4U
You got me wanting you
I like the way you move
This is what I said to myself when I saw you
(One time just grind for me
You fine, come wind for me
Recline and grind on me
Yep, and keep the head up)
Verse 2
I'd rather f-ck with the truth
Than make love to a lie
Cuz I'm exemplary of when doves cry
So I'ma hit Jefferson Ave and drive downtown
If the mucthaf-cka see me
I know he gon' clown
I ain't got no time to play games with no ho
If some sh-t pop off
I'ma do what I know
So get you ass in this car and lets bounce on these foes
I'ma take you to a telly that nobody knows
And when we get there
Baby, get bare
It's a wrap
Put yo legs in that 'lectric chair with the straps
Don't worry
I got revival kits
Call me doctor feel good, mamma, I'm the sh-t
Chorus
Verse 3
Starchild
Babygirl
Yo, she's one of a kind
She like to drop it like it's hot
Whisper spanish lines
Tongue like a serpent
Keep you ass burp'n
Trust me, man
She'll keep you ass hurt'n
Ok, guess what
Her man blow'n her up
That's why we keep the Boost Mobile back in the truck
Don't wanna hear no ringtones while she sex'n me up
While that n-gga dial'n digits
We be post'n it up
We got some childhood issues
From the past
The reality of sh-t
Is hard to grasp
The reality of this
Is kind of sad
You got me fien'n 4 the way that you move your azz
Chorus
Track 4: "Clit Licka feat. Aarika"
(T. Best and Aarika) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by J. Hardy for JAI Productions, Detroit, MI
Co-produced by Feloni
Recorded and Mixed by Feloni
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
Verse 1 (Feloni)
It's the F.
The E.
The L. O. N. I.
I'm in this muthaf-cka'
And, yes, you know why
I'ma give you the dooky
Real sh-t with no flies
I'ma take the pussi
I'm straight on you, guy
Always talk'n 'bout you minaj'n
One b-tch, two b-tches you messag'n
Where the f-ck they at
Prove yo mouth'n
And while you talk'n sh-t
Even yo momma's a
(Clit Licka)
Chorus
When yo girl staring at me from across the bar
When yo girl let me hit it from inside yo car
When yo girl cut you off and you think it's bizarre
She's a
(Clit Licka)
When you blow your girl up and she don't answer the phone
When you try'n to get a nut and she faken the moan
N-gga, give the girl up
She aiin't into the bone
She's a
(Clit Licka)
Verse 2 (Aarika rep'n Trinidad, Bedstuy & Brooklyn)
Yo, I love the green
Both money and trees
F-ck how n-ggaz feel
I'm runn'n in a 100 degrees
Sh-t's hot
But still a b-tch gotta stay with the heat
When them things pop
Flip-flops stop where they be
See you f-ck'n with a bad b-tch
Straight Brooklyn bandit
I'm just say'n, duke
You know you can't handle it
Plus I'm say'n that my b-tch is more man with it
Don't want no d-ck but I might get with a
(Clit Licka)
Yeah, you know
Eyes low
Hydro is what I blow
From the "D"
All the way to Brooklyn, baby
Bedstuy ladies act'n crazy
Yes, it's me, haters
Do ya' thang
Bless'n me every time you say my name
And I'm stress free
Please believe
I'm relieved while yo chest pains
Cuz I'ma
(Clit Licka)
Chorus
Verse 3 (Feloni)
I know I got a pussi
But ain't no pussi-b-tch
Show me the enemy
I'll empty out the clip
Pour out the Henn
Know I'ma sip it
Talk about the paper, B
I'm ready to flip it
What the f-ck you talk'n, boy
You's a "rider"
When my girl pulled the glock
All you did was holla
Took yo ass home
Jumped in the shower
And yo b-tch called again
(True story)
New York, Cali, ATL
Houston, Chi-town
Lickers dwell
Feel what I'm say'n
Baby, yell
What E-40 say, "Feel my smell"
Get a glass of water
Cuz I know you choken
On the fact that I'm the one she's hold'n
What's up, boy
You got them toys
But I'm the one she wants with the thump-thump noise
Chorus
Track 5: "Change Teams feat. T. Church"
(T. Best & T. Church) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
& Top of The Line Ent. (ASCAP)
Produced by T. Church for Top of The Line Ent., Detroit, MI
Recorded by Feloni & T. Church
Mixed by Feloni
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
Chorus
I seen yo b-tch in the club
(And she comin' with me)
She popp'n bottles, sipp'n bub
(In the V.I.P.)
On the dance floor makin' love
(Got her grindn' on me)
I'm 'bout to make her change teams
(She 'bout to sign with me)
I seen yo b-tch in the club
Verse 1
I flipped her name
Switched her game
Go yo chick runn'n 'round tasten' thangs
Yeah, she in mad heat
Cuz she pop it up and down for Feloni
Go ahead
Send a drink
See if you get some
She gon' play yo ass off like them Detroit Pistons
She gon' stall you now
Like Mike Jones say
She want them ballers now
You's a young-chump-punk-ass-wanna-be
And all the hatin' that you do
Don't bother me
I still wear the beam low
Pop Costi Tees
And if the popo show
They don't f-ck with me
Cuz my 7 Mile dogs ain't afraid to squeeze
Did I step on yo toe?
Excuse me, please
But yo b-tch chose me as the V.I.P.
Now I'm out this mucthaf-cka' like O.D.B.
Chorus
I seen you b-tch in the club
(And she comin' with me)
She popp'n bottles
Sipp'n bub
(In the V.I.P.)
On the dance floor makin' love
(Got her grind'n on me)
I'm 'bout to make her changes teams
She 'bout to sign with me
I seen yo b-tch in the club
Verse 2 (T. Church)
When I stepped up in the club
They knew I was paid
I was ball'n in that muthaf-cka' like Dwayne Wade
It's T.C., baby
I'ma ball 'till I fall
I'm iced out shinning like a disco ball
And I came on 20z
So I'm leavin' with a 10
Recruit'n in this muthaf-cka' like a GM
And I see yo girl look'n at me from afar
And I'm about to buy that--Shh!--a drink from the bar
Now I'm gett'n in her ear
So I can run my game
(My name's Dynees)
My name is--
(I already know your name)
Well would you mind if I talk with you
Take a walk with you
Over here in the corner in the dark with you
Where yo man can't see
Cuz like Darnell Jones
It's where you want to be
Gotta' make yo decision cuz I got you on the clock
With you on my team
I'd have the game on lock
Chorus
I seen yo b-tch in the club
(And she comin with me)
She popp'n bottles, sipp'n bub
(In the V.I.P.)
On the dance floor makin' love
(Got her grind'n on me)
I'm 'bout to make her changes teams
She 'bout to sign with me
I seen yo b-tch in the club
Verse 3
They say I got the odds against me
But who can't win
When I'm rock'n mutchaf-ckaz with my spins
I don't f-ck with that Cris
Patron's my sin
Been an OG
Ain't no need to pretend
See, hard is as hard does
(WTF)
I ain't gotta' rock Jordans to get the butt
I just stick my tongue out
Watch her n-tt
Then it's overtime, B
Get yo pimp'n up
Break (R2X)
I know yo n-gga hate me now
I know yo n-gga hate me now
I know yo n-gga hate me now
Go ahead let him hate me now
Chorus
Track 6: "Brand New"
(T. Best) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by J. Hardy for JAI Productions, Detroit, MI
Recorded by J. Stew, Helluva, Anjed "AJ" Abdallah (R.I.P.) & Brian Woodring
Mixed by Anjed "AJ" Abdallah & Brian Woodring @ Studio 8, Ferndale, MI
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
Intro
This goes out to all those n-ggaz
Who be f-ck'n around with those bi-sexual women
You know what I'm sayin'
Fall'n in love and sh-t
Now check it...
Verse 1
Yo b-tch was act'n brand new when I f-cked her
Matter fact, I made yo b-tch leave her motha'
Her sista'
Her crib and you
This is what tongue in p-ssi can do, n-gga
Yo b-tch hit me up when you work'n
She like to get the p-ssi wet, then get it jerk'n
This ain't no tale
I hits like Pharell
Now I got yo b-tch eat'n p-ssi so well
Damn, it's the feline pimp
5'7, 130
I don't walk with no limps
Now check it
Yo chick be jigglin', baby
When I suck her from behind
She be screamin' like crazy
I know some n-ggas don't feel me
But when I take yo' b-tch
You n-ggas wanna' kill me
That's why I stay strapped
Cuz I'm that female MAC
And when you n-ggas come and get me
We gon' ratta-tat-tat-ta
Chorus
Yo chick is brand new if she hangs in titty bars
I took yo b-tch
Yo chick is brand new is she likes menage a trois
na-na-na-na, yo b-tch
Yo chick is brand new if she likes to wear yo drawlzI
I took yo b-tch
Yo chick is brand new is she leaves you for a broad, man
Know what the f-ck I'm sayin'
Verse 2
Now I don't need no diamonds and figures, nigga
Except for the figures that I leave on yo sheet
Where I f-cked yo b-tch
Oh, she's a bad freak
You can't smell my scent
On her upper lip
Oh, we'd like to tell you, but we think you'd slip
You'll f-ck around and catch a muthaf-ckin' clip
Listen
I ain't no hard playa
I just wanna share her
She can live with you
You can pay her bills
You can f-ck her nightly
I can f-ck her daily
Trust me, dog, I ain't trying to have her baby
Last I saw
You were talkin lots of trash
Last I thought
I was gone smoke yo ass
But I spared you
Cuz you's a b-tch-n-gga
Matter fact, I even heard you's a snitch-n-gga
You gots the time
Oh, you don't watch it
That's why yo girl waived you off like you pharted, n-gga
Chorus
Verse 3
You gots to be a dumb muthaf-cka to believe
Cuz you change her number, she won't call me
Who you think I is
A muthaf-ckin squid
Now get this through yo head
She gives me head, son
Now I ain't no muthaf-ckin G.I. Jane
But every b-tch I meet wanna give me brain now
I guess they gone insane now
Some women don't won't no man now
And so you wanna attack
You need to get yo sh-t together and get off that crack
(It's the Dirty-D, baby)
They say eatin and cheatin
But if yo b-tch f-ck with me
I guarantee she'll be leavin you
Just like water from ice do
But you ain't dealin with ice cubes
I'll get yo female jacked
And guess what muthaf-cka
You won't get her back
Now say it...
Chorus
Track 7: "Pussi Can"
(T. Best) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by J. Hardy for JAI Productions, Detroit, MI
Recorded & Mixed by Brian Woodring @ Popsicle Sound, Dearborn, MI
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
Verse 1
Pussi can take yo b-tch
Pussi can make you snitch
Pussi can make you trick
Pussi can get you rich
Pussi can make you ho
Pussi can throw them bowlz
Pussi can bring you low
And get you so damn high
Pussi can make you cry
Pusssi can make you lie
Pussi is alibis
Pussi don't pay no ties
Pussi can beak a man
So he don't understand
That pussi is the plan
That pussi is the man
Chorus
Self-love
The pussi is
Self-love
(What's that sound)
Verse 2
Pussi can make you talk
Pussi can make you stalk
Pussi can drop a dime
And make you do that time
Pussi can be yo friend
Pussi can make you sin
Pussi can make you holla
and take that might dollar
Pussi can make you lazy
Pussi can drive you crazy
Pussi can take yo wife
Pussi could be a dyke
Pussi can break a nation without a hesitation
And take your superman
Pussi can casue regret
Pussi can make you hate
Pussi can make you rape
Pussi can be the need that make yo ass plead
Pussi can make you front
Pussi can get you jumped
Chorus
(The power)
P.U.S.S.Y.
Pussi can, pussi can, yes, it can, man
Self-love
The pussi is
Self-love
(What's that sound)
Verse 3
Pussi can break you off
Pussi can make you soft
Pussi can tie you down
Pussi can make you clown
Pussi can ride a curve
Pussi can work yo nerve
Like Maya's caged bird
Pussi won't say a word
Pussi can make you steal
Pussi can make you kill
Pussi gon' keep it real
Pussi, you know the deal
Pussi can make it pop
Pussi can make it drop
And if you try to run
Pussi gon' keep it locked
Chorus
Pussi can, pussi can, yes, it can, man
Self-love
The pussi is
Self-love
(What's that sound)
Track 8: "Widebody"
(T. Best) for Worldwide Panteez Publishing (BMI)
Produced by Daniel "DSKi" Lemelle, Richmond, CA
Recorded & Mixed by Feloni
Mastered by Tony Dawsey @ Masterdisk, NYC
(C) Trak Diamond Records. All rights reserved.
VERSE 1
I'ma let 'em come to me
F-ck comin to you
Cuz I look real lovely, baby, when I do what I do
I ain't playin with you, watch out
Can I sell platinum status, Jigga
No doubt
Dave Chapelle said society's sick
So I ain't crazy young f-cka
No get off my tip
Don't try to hold back what you don't understand
Plus I gotta better plan
Makin you a better man
Listen as I break you in...
Chorus
I'ma tak the pussi
Eat it up, beat it up, get some hot sauce
Cuz I'ma heat it up, boy
Where them widebodies
Where them widebodies
Where them widebodies
Tell me where them widebodies
(Love it in a widebody)
It's a woman's revenge
When I'm taking over pussi from men, then grin
Verse 2
Shotgun to the pop
Did it non-stop
Worked 7-24, then I hit the block
This is how I run it
Metal to the flow
All them hatin suckas said it couldn't be sold
F-ck you snitch
I took yo b-tch
Now I'm makin money and I'm gettin real rich
(If you got a widebody come and holla at me
I'm from the D-Town, baby, call me Feloni)
Now don't be shy
I know you kick it on the sly
Frontin on you man when a b-tch walk by
What's up, baby
Can I get a maybe
Katt said you need self-esteem, young lady
Now get yo ass out the closet and throw away the key
You got a widebody, baby, come and put it on me
(Bounce it like a 24
Drop it like it's hard to hold
I'ma work it like a pro
You can let yo n-gga know)
Chorus
Verse 3
Peanutbutter, muthaf-cka-two-timin-trick
If you don't treat yo woman better
You gon' lose her quick
Cuz you know that I know
She gotta have that
Pushin up on Fel like a widebody linebacker
I got you son
Stop hatin with the jealousy
You know how that game go
Yo b-tch choose Feloni
Now take a moment of silence so you can swallow that
And when you get it together
Yo, baby, holla back
Chorus
