UphoneBlog

The collapse of 7 World Trade Center occurred during this video. The resulting dust & smoke cloud is plainly visible. I spent most of the late morning and early afternoon filming the aftermath of (..more)

The collapse of 7 World Trade Center occurred during this video. The resulting dust & smoke cloud is plainly visible. I spent most of the late morning and early afternoon filming the aftermath of the attacks from the promenade along the Belt Parkway in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. This video includes the live radio coverage from the two major all-news AM stations in New York, 1010 WINS and WCBS 880. I held my radio near the camera so that the reports were recorded live on the video. You will also hear my voice relaying to my wife via mobile phone that I believed 7WTC had just collapsed. (..less)

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 (..more)

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 wan (..less)

uncensored "Yeah, Mista Busta, where the fuck ya at? Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up wi (..more)

uncensored "Yeah, Mista Busta, where the fuck ya at? Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homey, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth Nigga bow down to the row Fuckin me, now I'm fuckin you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin on the 'Eazy'est streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B.G. cause you lost all your homey's love Now call it what you want to You fucked wit me, now it's a must that I fuck wit you [Interlude: Dr. Dre] Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin about We have your motherfuckin record company surrounded Put down the candy and let the little boy go You knowhatI'msayin, punk motherfucker (We want Eazy, we want Eazy) [Verse Two: Snoop Doggy Dogg] Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay Doggy Dogg's in the mothe (..less)

uncensored/alternate version "With so much drama in the l-b-c Its kinda hard bein snoop d-o-double-g But i, somehow, some way Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day May i, kick (..more)

uncensored/alternate version "With so much drama in the l-b-c Its kinda hard bein snoop d-o-double-g But i, somehow, some way Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day May i, kick a little something for the gs (yeah) And, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through Two in the mornin and the partys still jumpin Cause my momma aint home I got bitches in the living room gettin it on And, they aint leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin) So what you wanna do, sheeeit I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too So turn off the lights and close the doors But (but what) we dont love them hoes, yeah! So we gonna smoke a ounce to this Gs up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this Chorus: repeat 2x Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind] Verse two: Now, that, I got me some seagrams gin Everybody got they cups, but they aint chipped in Now this types of shit, happens all the time You got to get yours but fool I gotta get mine Everything is fine when you listenin to the d-o-g I got the cultivating music that be captivating he Who li (..less)