William Horner was another animation pioneer, who created the zoetrope. He created the zoetrope in the year 1834.A zoetrope is a device that produces an illusion of action from a rapid succession. It was basically a improvement on the phenkitascope. it lead to the praxinoscope being made and also lead to animation being viewed simpler. this made animation easier to be seen because it had small slits on the side where the person could look inside and it would give a better effect than a phenkitascope. the designs on the zoetrope vary from animals to football players, and is still used today.
[2Pac:] I ain't got no motherfucking friends That's why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker Take Money West Side, Bad Boy killers Take Money You know who the realest is We bring it too Take money, take money
[2Pac:] First off, fuck your bitch and the clique you claim Westside when we ride, come equipped with game You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life Plus Puffy trying to see me, weak hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark-ass bitches We keep on coming while we running for your jewels Steady gunning, keep on busting at them fools You know the rules Lil' Caesar go ask your homie how I'll leave you Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased Little Kim, don't fuck around with real G's Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets So fuck peace! I'll let them niggas know it's on for life Don't let the Westside ride the night haha Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed Fuck with me and get your caps peeled You know
[2Pac:] See, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac Call the cops when you see 2Pac, oh Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish Now you about to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, I hit 'em up
[2Pac:] Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is I don't know why I'm even on this track Y'all niggas ain't even on my level I'm going to let my little homies ride on you bitch-made ass Bad Boy bitches Take money
[Hussein Fatal:] Get out the way, yo, get out the way, yo Biggie Smalls just got dropped Little Moo' pass the MAC and let me hit him in his back Frank White needs to get spanked right for setting traps Little accident-murderer, and I ain't never heard of ya Poisonous gats attack when I'm serving ya Spank you, shank your whole style when I gank Guard your rank cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm running through, nigga And I'm smoking Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga With the ready-power Tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer Your clout petty/sour, I push packages every hour I hit 'em up
[2Pac:] Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac Call the cops when you see 2Pac, oh Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish Now you about to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, I hit 'em up
[2Pac:] Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel This ain't no freestyle battle All you niggas getting killed with your mouths open Trying to come up off of me, you in the clouds hoping Smoking dope, it's like a sherm high Niggas think they learned to fly But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die Talking about you getting money, but it's funny to me All you niggas living bummy – why you fucking with me? I'm a self-made millionaire Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air haha Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house? Now it's all about Versace, you copied my style Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled Now I'm back to set the record straight With my AK, I'm still the thug that you love to hate Motherfucker, I'll hit 'em up
[Kadafi:] I'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs Now go check the scenario: Lil' Cease I'll bring you fake G's to your knees Copping pleas in de Janeiro Little Kim, is you coked up or doped up? Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up What the fuck, is you stupid? I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn With my click looting, shooting and polluting your block With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot Outlaw Mafia clique moving up another notch And your Pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped And all your fake ass east coast props Brainstormed and locked
[E.D.I. Mean:] Jui-cer You's a beat biter, a Pac style taker I'll tell you to your face you ain't shit but a faker Softer than Alize with a chaser About to get murdered for the paper E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper Like a loc with Little Ceas' in a choke Gun totin' smoke. We ain't no motherfucking joke Thug Life, niggas better be known Be approaching in the wide open, gun smoking No need for hoping, it's a battle lost I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off Nigga, I hit 'em up!
[2Pac:] Now you tell me who won I see them, they run haha They don't wanna see us Take money Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressing up trying to be us Take money How the fuck they gonna be the mob when we always on our job? We millionaires Killing ain't fair, but somebody got to do it Oh yeah, Mobb Deep: you wanna fuck with us? You little young-ass motherfuckers Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something? You're fucking with me, nigga You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart attack You better back the fuck up Before you get smacked the fuck up This is how we do it on our side Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it: Bring it! But we ain't singing, we bringing drama Fuck you and your motherfucking mama We gon' kill all you motherfuckers Now when I came out, I told you it was just about Biggie Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fucking opinion Well, this is how we gonna do this: Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie, fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfucking crew! And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too! Chino XL: fuck you too! All you motherfuckers, fuck you too! (Take money, take money) All of y'all motherfuckers, fuck you; die slow, motherfucker My .44 make sure all y'all kids don't grow! You motherfuckers can't be us or see us We motherfuckin' Thug Life-riders, Westside til we die! Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya We'll bomb on you motherfucker! We do our job! You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin' mob Ain't nothing but killers and the real niggas All you motherfuckers feel us Our shit goes triple and 4-quadruple Take money You niggas laugh cause our staff got guns under they motherfuckin' belts You know how it is, when we drop records they felt You niggas can't feel it, we the realest Fuck 'em, we Bad Boy-killers We killers, we killers, we killers
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteIt has the same first name as me, haah.
ReplyDeleteTrust an idiot like you to come out with something as stupid as that.
DeleteNo one gives a shit that your name is in the start of this amazing piece of history.
No wonder the world has gone shit. Do everyone a favour! TAKE A FUCKING ROPE AND USE IT!
Calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ, it's just her name what the fuck is your problem?!
DeleteGo fuck your stuffed animals you nerd and Go fuck your mom you skank.
ReplyDeleteHey, stupid mother fuckers. I would like to warmly invite you to shut the fuck up, you unthinking sack of fucking shit.
ReplyDeleteHey, stupid mother fuckers. I would like to warmly invite you to shut the fuck up, you unthinking sack of fucking shit.
ReplyDeleteI would like to warmly invite you to shut the fuck up, you unthinking sack of fucking shit.
ReplyDeleteUmm..... I dunno what happened in this comment section but okay?
ReplyDeleteThe lolz just got realz
ReplyDeleteSuck my fat dick
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
Delete>Being this Autistic in a comment section about old cameras LMAO
ReplyDeleteyour all ruthless
ReplyDelete[2Pac:]
ReplyDeleteI ain't got no motherfucking friends
That's why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker
Take Money
West Side, Bad Boy killers
Take Money
You know who the realest is
We bring it too
Take money, take money
[2Pac:]
First off, fuck your bitch and the clique you claim
Westside when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life
Plus Puffy trying to see me, weak hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark-ass bitches
We keep on coming while we running for your jewels
Steady gunning, keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules
Lil' Caesar go ask your homie how I'll leave you
Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Little Kim, don't fuck around with real G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets
So fuck peace! I'll let them niggas know it's on for life
Don't let the Westside ride the night haha
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get your caps peeled
You know
[2Pac:]
See, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, oh
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now you about to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit 'em up
[2Pac:]
Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is
I don't know why I'm even on this track
Y'all niggas ain't even on my level
I'm going to let my little homies ride on you bitch-made ass Bad Boy bitches
Take money
[Hussein Fatal:]
DeleteGet out the way, yo, get out the way, yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Moo' pass the MAC and let me hit him in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right for setting traps
Little accident-murderer, and I ain't never heard of ya
Poisonous gats attack when I'm serving ya
Spank you, shank your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm running through, nigga
And I'm smoking Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga
With the ready-power
Tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty/sour, I push packages every hour
I hit 'em up
[2Pac:]
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, oh
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now you about to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit 'em up
[2Pac:]
Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle
All you niggas getting killed with your mouths open
Trying to come up off of me, you in the clouds hoping
Smoking dope, it's like a sherm high
Niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talking about you getting money, but it's funny to me
All you niggas living bummy – why you fucking with me?
I'm a self-made millionaire
Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air haha
Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?
Now it's all about Versace, you copied my style
Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
Now I'm back to set the record straight
With my AK, I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I'll hit 'em up
[Kadafi:]
DeleteI'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs
No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs
Now go check the scenario: Lil' Cease
I'll bring you fake G's to your knees
Copping pleas in de Janeiro
Little Kim, is you coked up or doped up?
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the fuck, is you stupid?
I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click looting, shooting and polluting your block
With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia clique moving up another notch
And your Pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
And all your fake ass east coast props
Brainstormed and locked
[E.D.I. Mean:]
Jui-cer
You's a beat biter, a Pac style taker
I'll tell you to your face you ain't shit but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
About to get murdered for the paper
E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc with Little Ceas' in a choke
Gun totin' smoke. We ain't no motherfucking joke
Thug Life, niggas better be known
Be approaching in the wide open, gun smoking
No need for hoping, it's a battle lost
I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off
Nigga, I hit 'em up!
[2Pac:]
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run haha
They don't wanna see us
Take money
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressing up trying to be us
Take money
How the fuck they gonna be the mob when we always on our job? We millionaires
Killing ain't fair, but somebody got to do it
Oh yeah, Mobb Deep: you wanna fuck with us?
You little young-ass motherfuckers
Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something?
You're fucking with me, nigga
You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it:
Bring it!
But we ain't singing, we bringing drama
Fuck you and your motherfucking mama
We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out, I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fucking opinion
Well, this is how we gonna do this:
Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie, fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfucking crew!
And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too!
Chino XL: fuck you too!
All you motherfuckers, fuck you too!
(Take money, take money)
All of y'all motherfuckers, fuck you; die slow, motherfucker
My .44 make sure all y'all kids don't grow!
You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
We motherfuckin' Thug Life-riders, Westside til we die!
Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya
We'll bomb on you motherfucker! We do our job!
You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin' mob
Ain't nothing but killers and the real niggas
All you motherfuckers feel us
Our shit goes triple and 4-quadruple
Take money
You niggas laugh cause our staff got guns under they motherfuckin' belts
You know how it is, when we drop records they felt
You niggas can't feel it, we the realest
Fuck 'em, we Bad Boy-killers
We killers, we killers, we killers
kk
ReplyDelete