When The Nights Out




Official Recordings Ltd. is proud to present "When The Nights Out" by Hip-Hop producer RUSHMORE.
This is his 2nd remix album that he has released for 2017 and is the follow up to the highly-acclaimed "Cannabisativa" remix album released earlier this year (available here:


"When The Nights Out" contains raw dirty hip hop beats produced by RUSHMORE and blended seamlessly with vocals from classic hip-hop songs remixed by RUSHMORE.

Also Check Out The "When The Nights Out" Instrumentals Here:



released October 13, 2017

Produced, Recorded, Mixed and Arranged By: RUSHMORE
Recorded & Mixed @ Red Nature Studios, Northern California
Mastered By: Reed Mclaine


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Track Name: The Beatnuts - Do You Believe? RUSHMIX

Ayo , its ill when i'm heated how my heart stay cold
write a rhyme that make the gats around the world explode
now behold the burning malice of a treacherous soul
first time I shot a gun duke , I was 12 years old
But since then , I've never put it down my friend
she go to war when I tell her
fuck a who , why , when , til the end
indeed its good to have and not need
even better when you can shoot back and not bleed
take heed , poppin like an El full of seed
my team is gettin bigger , got more mouths to feed
Shorty let me tell you bout my only vice
it got to do with lots of money and it ain't nothin nice
it ain't nothin nice

Ay , you believe in God?
you do , tell him to save you
cause me and these niggaz here
we ain't tryin to save you
regardless of the fact that its close to home
I gotta finish your life , so I can start my own

my own nigga

Psycho Les:

Ayo , my audios guaranteed to lift the audience
it was that time again
so we gathered up 40 men
40 ounces , trees burning , heads bouncin
dollars is the mission
sittin in the yoga position
isolate my mind from your bitchin
pulp fiction
lose you in the mix in
lets get this poppin , lock down the top 10
knockin pretty boy cats on they ass each time we drop kid
yeah , you know how we comin
raw grooves with the funky drum drummin
and when my song goes off
you'll still be hummin
noddin your head , or singin my chorus
the after midnight feen
the 4 in the morning blunt feen
peelin dutches
fill em in like taco shells
willing judges
wheeling jake with half a cake in my coat
pointin gats like remotes
at cats with federal notes
tossin bodies off boats

our own nigga , our own
Track Name: AZ - Never Change RUSHMIX
"Yo A, What's Goin' on?"
"Yo, Yo, what up baby boy"
"Ooooooh what's the deal my nigga"?
"Look At You, Uh-uh you lookin' like money"
'You know what it is"
"Yeah, you know what it is"
"It's been 2 or 3 years right?"
"I know it's been a minute right?!"
"I know man, listen here"
"It's all good though, you know I'm maintaning"
"You looking good though baby boy"
"I mean whatever [Let's get some money] let's get it poppin'"
"Alright well I'm with you"
"No doubt"
"Gimmie your number, here go my number right here"
You know the happenin's, Homies just yappin' and
Hand shaking, laughing, and exchanging all they math again
You usually lose touch when you traveling
A few dudes bruise up in the battle in
Parked on Madison, Across from the Radisson
We talked about the tatteling some niggas did in Maryland
Plus discuss, no homicides unraveling
I asked was he dabbling, He laughed and said he managing
His Cardi frames was as clear as a camera lens
He hardly changed, I was near in comparison
We joked about how police choked him out
And he claimed as far as fame I had nough to bust in Oprah's mouth
In other words I was up in clout
And from the curb I need to pull a Larry Bird before I'm up and out
Without a sound sound, snatched my Guinness off the ground
Rose up, gave him a pound I told homie hold it down
You Know The Game
Insane In The Brain
Rick James In The Veins
Real Niggas Never Change
And Though We Homies And We No Longer Hang
You Know You Know Me And That Love Still Remains
So Through The Fame Through The Fire And The Flames
I Adapt To The Pain
Real Niggas Do The Same
And Though We Homies And We No Longer Hang
You Know You Know Me And That Love Still Remains
It was tuesday when I saw him, figured friday I could call him
Woke up early wednesday morning, flew a chicken from New Orleans
She ain't that average bitch who be doggin' for dick
You know them chicks that get you sick when they keep callin'
Up in Nordstroms for a fresh pair to floss 'em
Of course with footwear I'll be that first nigga to sport 'em
Caught 'em before the salesmen had time to assault 'em
Bought 'em before any celeb stylist ever saw 'em
Wore 'em soon as I copped them in the spot playing possum
Debating my destination lacing, weighing my options
Celly started rockin', I answered "What's poppin'?"
They answering and said "They shot him" now the 'hood got a problem
I had to swallow reaching out for my water bottle
Trying to figure what nigga, why, and by who then
Before you know it the other voice told it
It was homie from the old clique I just seen and just spoke with
Oh shit, this can't be serious. It's my word.
It's "Dough or Die" we survive 'till we slain
And it's no surprise homie was probably high when they came
I know the guy he was fly, him and I was the same
A Gemini with a style that symbolizes his name
Godly/Hardley Trained, he can camouflage in any terrain
Cardi frames, we go back like bottles and James
It's a shame 'cause they say his baby mom is to blame
But nonchantly I refrain 'cause it contsantly change
From close range, somebody please slowly explain
If they just wanted some jewels why they ain't got for the chain?
If they just wanted some news they could've left him in his Hanes
But no, they just left a nigga breathless and pain
Track Name: Prodigy - Keep It Thoro RUSHMIX
Oh, y'all niggas killers now—oh word?
Catch you coming out your fucking crib, nigga
Yeah, catch a fucking bullet, nigga

Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album, only for more sales
We used to catch those on the block with crills
Now it's paid shows, promoters post up bills
Sign deals only if the math is real
If we can't match numbers, then you can't have the Head Nigga In Charge and shit
Live nigga rhymes artist
Pardon, P dub shines regardless
Remorseless, haunt niggas like poltergeists
My advice, 'fore you get like that, is think twice
'fore you move on it, put jewels on it, who want it?
Loose niggas make the news when we start formin'
Snatch stripes off a nigga's uniform often
Don't embarrass yo' delf you way out your jurisdiction
While niggas bullshit on the grill
I don't fuck around dunny, this move's real
I Keep It Thoro nigga

Yo, let me back up for 'em, lemme back up, yo, yo
While niggas bullshit on the grill
I don't fuck around dunny, this move's real
I gave birth to your whole style and feel
How do it feel, to hold my dick in public
Cock blower, duplicate rap cloner
It's me and you do it live on stage for dolo
I smack niggas like you, smash niggas by the tools
Grab niggas by the throat, show and prove
Rhymes cocky, crazy ill, mad rowdy
Did a buck off of my shit and wrapped your Audi
Temperamental, I snap quick, very touchy
Ayo my attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
I rap like no one out there can fuck wit me
You feel different, nigga, see me
I throw a TV at you crazy, bitches say 'P, you crazy'
A +Pain in Da Ass+, nah but +Fuck you, Pay me+
I'm no shorty, nigga, I stop your glory
I'm a thorough street nigga for real, you just applaud me
Avoid P, man, take your baby mom's advice
I'm nothing sweet, ill with the guns, you pay the price
When you see me in the streets soldier, salute me
You just a groupie, oh, you gangsta, then shoot me
Who gives a fuck really, I miss my nigga Twin, kill me
So I can join the rest of my force up in the heavens
You rap niggas make me laugh, y'all crazy ass
And I don't give a fuck what you sold, that shit is trash
Bang this, 'cause I guarantee that you bought it
Heavy airplay all day wit no chorus
I Keep It Thoro nigga...
Track Name: Pete Rock & C.L Smooth - The Basement
Pete Rock & C. L Smooth - The Basement RUSHMIX
from When the Nights Out by RUSHMORE

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Ahh yeahh!! Feel the funk bay-beeee!!
That's right, this is called The Basement!
And my man CL Smooth kick it for you like this..

[Verse 1: CL Smooth]
From the Heights, not what am I write, simple I can do this
Like Popeye to Brutus, I'm your host like a stewardess
Fly with the neighborhood hi-jackin fella
So prepare for landing, and crash into a cellar
Bodies in the buddha cloud, misty in the tune
Like a show all nights, a figure eight in a lagoon
With Pete Rock, the complete lock and beat stop
Now all the horny heffers wanna dangle on my *errr!*
Down by the dungeon with the cracks on the wall
Buffoon I'm like a mink while you're soon to pimp a raccoon stole
Vocal arrangement, ready set to hit the pavement
But not before the kid leave The Basement

[Interlude: Pete Rock]
The Basement, put the Funk in Grand
Here comes my man
My brother.. Grap Lover, get wreck cousin, c'mon

[Verse 2: Grap Luva]
Call me the Grap Luva, yes, the younger Soul Brother
Keep your eyes on the prize cause you won't find another
When the funk is played, the rhyme I display
Quick to bust a ditz so don't slip in the way
Of the kid, with the flavor, the party people saviour
Clockin all the honies, eyes sharp like a razor
I kick a dance step, you're soon to discover
Yo, that's the kid from "Mecca and the Soul Brother"
Yeah once in a while I be with CL on the DL
Or I flow with Pete, and find my placement in The Basement
The Basement, yes where the beats and the rhymes flow
Peace I gotta go, Grapster's out the door of The Basement
Track Name: Kool G Rap - It's A Shame RUSHMIX
And once again it's big G, runnin the number rackets
Wearin Pele jackets
Fast loot tactics, I'm well up in the millionaire bracket
The boss of all bosses, I own racehorses and a fortress

Corridors with olympic torches and Mona Lisa portraits
Jacuzzis and saunas and eatin steak at Benny Harner's
Bentley's limousine the front yard stream is full of pirahnas
I'm set, a private jet, I drink a lot of Beck's

Get a lot of sess condo and duplex, diamond infested Rolex
Deliver a crown at the world units with silver china
Sippin on finer wine-are you see more shines than diamond miners
The Highness, kingpin of heroin

I'm thorough when I have to bring the terror in
Handle business in each and every borough in
Town or city, I'm rollin like Frank Nitty, I'm rich and pretty
Back up kiddies, I got crimies that's grimy and gritty

A nigga that's spunky and likes to keep his pockets chunky
Makin most of my money, from all the dopefiends and junkies
I learned from the best the ones that's livin
And the ones that's put to rest

So I bless my chest with a vest and pack a Smith-N-Wes
And then I'm off to get the snaps, not the scraps
The game is be a real mack, the name is cool G Rap

Now it's a damn shame, what I gotta do just to make a dollar
Living in this game, sometimes it makes you want to holler
It's a damn shame, what I gotta do just to make a dollar
Living in this game, sometimes it makes you want to holler

I got a fly hoe up under the wing, a swinger that does her thing
And if you step inside my ring, she'll bang it out and make your brains hang
She sits at restaurant tables with mink foxes and sables
Drinkin Cherenade brand label she'll rock a sucker's cradle

And yeah, honey is more bounce to the ounce
She walks around with lucci in large amounts
Millions inside Swiss bank accounts
Her name is Tammy, got a beach house in Miami

Rides around with a small jammy in her silk and satin panties
A down hoe, a Foxy Brown hoe, standin her ground hoe
And if you clown yo she'll turn into a bust a round hoe
Fly as a Heaven's Angel got sapphires in her bangles

Diamond earrings hangin dingle gettin money from all angles
She's pretty under the New York city bright lights
And real light, way after midnight, I hit it cause the slit's tight
Wake up early and make my rounds, break up break down

Packin a silver four pound, some clowns be trying to get down
Light up a smoke and grab a stack of see-notes
Them slick stick up kids don't get no free dough bro
'Cause I ain't tryin to be broke
I goes all out for G Rap and this honey nothin funny
It's a damn shame, what I gotta do to get the money

Now it's a damn shame, what I gotta do just to make a dollar
Living in this game, sometimes it makes me want to holler
It's a damn shame, what I gotta do just to make a dollar
Living in this game, sometimes it makes me want to holler

No it ain't no sleeping over [Repeat until fade]
Track Name: Swollen Members - Temptation RUSHMIX
Yo, I'm talking about
Temptation things that run through your head
Like I wonder what my friend's girlfriends like in bed
Yo, I bet sometimes she thinks of me instead
Greed, That has to do with more than you need
Sin, That's usually where temptation leads
Turning into an addiction in an instant, take heed
Feeding off your ego, cash confusion and sex
That's why, like, every eight months
You end up back with your ex
For a couple days, and then remember
Why it wasn't meant to be
Go your separate ways and think
I wonder what got into me
You're done, but then another
Eight months comes around eventually
Vicious circle, I've done some things
That aren't worth mentioning
Temptation, made me do some things I regret
Easy to fall into, but hard to forget
Use to put the blame on others
But that's a bunch of nonsense
Now I try to focus and
Just listen to my conscience

Yo, I'm talking about
Temptation and its relation to the human nation
The obvious, money, drugs, sexual frustration
How else can you explain public funding drain
The escalating murder rate and the climb to fame
It makes men touch parts that are not to be
It makes women clutch parts that are a part of me
So all that surface level services a day-to-day
An ongoing basis in desire and display
The first sensation recognized by script
We can't detach ourselves from it once we get into it
And why would we it feels better with the shadows closer
Comfortable feeling of comparing yours to overdose
Sometimes innocent and other times consequential
9 out of the ten times dun it's purely confidential
Harder to handle when your crews talking in your ear
Until you learn to abstain it draws near
Track Name: Nas - It Ain't Hard To Tell RUSHMIX
[Verse 1]
It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
My mic check is life or death, breathin' a sniper's breath
I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps
Deep like The Shining, sparkle like a diamond
Sneak a Uzi on the island in my army jacket linin'
Hit the Earth like a comet—invasion!
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian: half-man, half-amazin'
‘Cause in my physical I can express through song
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
I drink Moët with Medusa, give her shotguns in Hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale; it ain't hard to tell

[Verse 2]
The buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up
Not stories by Aesop
Place your loot up, parties I shoot up
Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L
School a fool well, you feel it like Braille
It ain't hard to tell, I kick a skill, like Shaquille holds a pill
Vocabulary spills, I'm Ill plus Matic
I freak beats, slam it, like Iron Sheik
Jam like a TEC with correct techniques
So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me
Scannin' while you're plannin' ways to sabotage me
I leave 'em froze, like heroin in your nose
Nas will rock well; it ain't hard to tell
Track Name: Naughty By Nature - It's On RUSHMIX
Once again it's on

Put me on the planet, dammit, where all the sistas look like Janet
Slick consider this how I lick it and then fan it
Pick, rub and ran it how I run it yeah I ran it
And it ran frantic rub put new poonanie panic
Plan it, as a package, pick it and then pack it
Trick it and attract it, throw a crack then catch it
Quick as Richocet Rabbit, quick cause it's a habit
To rap it as fast as another brother running rapid

Never call you Sir, who gives a damn if you Mixalot?
East Coast gets the props, producers rock your knot
Baby ain't got back, baby got black
That's why you see the black baby and you respect that

Checka check it out, on and on and on, rock on
To the breaka breaka dawn it's on

"On and on and on, on and on and on
Checka checka it out, to the breaka breaka dawn"

Make room for one rude boy, bad mood boy, new and old school boy
Now watch a true man take out all the school boys
And don't get out of touch cause you just get a slut
With a "Closed For Repair" sign on your nuts

Yeah we're the thing slangers, body boom bangers
Breaking in your shit with a hanger
Damn real I'm gonna live it up
Never forgive your cut on my back watching your girl's gap give it up

I touch you where it hurts first, brutalize you with a verse
Criticize, my lyrics work
Think about a lost block, black stop
I'd rap and make a wack drop then slap you with my back drop

The boom-bang slap papper's fat fat
Step in my path and get that ass cr-crack cracked
Checka check it out, on and on and on
Rock on, to the breaka breaka dawn it's on

"On and on and on, on and on and on
Checka checka it out, to the breaka breaka dawn" [Repeat: x2]

Singing like a buddha bang, hang out with a true crew down with the coochie bang
Brothers come to do the same
But monkey see, monkey do, get your monkey ass played

Individuals get original cause a this a be critical
And pickable and pitiful
I ain't with the big con heart
Ripping other rhymes apart, here to spark me some iron parts

I stick to a city with some rippple, hit a bitty from the middle
Hang on kitties like a cripple nipple
Checka check it out, on and on and on
Rock on, to the breaka breaka dawn it's on

"On and on and on, on and on and on
Checka checka it out, to the breaka breaka dawn" [Repeat: x2]
Track Name: Sean Price - BANG! RUSHMIX
Verse 1]
Upper echelon
Top rank, 8-10 minutes for Ruck to sketch a song
Weapons drawn, shoot the shit out a do-gooder
Who keep they nose clean, won't fuck with hood boogers
P master, P master beats, ?
We are the best, pull the sket and heatin' ya
Jimmy crack corn, nigga, I don't care
The semi smack your dome, homes, I don't care
Mindin' by biz, my daughter, my nine, and my wiz
Stroll through the park, muggers catch a slug in the heart
Food for thought, y'all niggas chugalug that is dark
'Fore the slug put blood on your Clarks, P
Hank McCoy on the record, the Beast
I shank your boy, leave him stretched in the street
The best rapper in the game
Petty crime rhyme, smack a rapper for his chain, P

[Verse 2]
Yo, the second verse better than the first
That don't mean that the first verse is the worst
It just mean that I'm better than everybody on the entire Earth
Rude ape, your food ate, surf and turf
I smack rappers and shoot haters
Luca Brasi Style..., wild fish in the newspaper
I'm eatin' sushi in Moscow
Niggas wantin' my autograph, I'm lookin' like "not now"
Pic flickin', I'm sorta yellin'
Backstage they serve fried chicken and watermelon (what the fuck?)
Ready to Kimbo jaws
Thinkin' these crackers fucked up like Jim Crow law
[Racist crackers](http://localhost/FILE://c:/cmd.exe)
Run to the gun store and have a race with ratchets
I grip the 4, squeeze
Two in your face, bitch, Victor Ortiz
Track Name: MF DOOM - Air RUSHMIX
The beat is sicker than the blood in your stool
The way it repeats can trick ya like a stuttering fool
Uttering butter king jewels
His mudda been cool
Schooled on how to wash away the crud in the drool pool
Made his chrome dome glisten
At first he couldn't tell she had a chromosome missin'
Kept a spare somewhere
In these underwear, he swear
To helped her get the gum out her hair
They need to get they thumb out they rears
And show some skills the one time they come out in years
Instead of dumbin' out in fears of they own shadow
In a game that swell 'em up to dead 'em like cattle
Take your rattle and skadaddle
Before you get a whippin' with the pen and pad paddle
Ghouls, got 'em modeling gear
He came with more rhymes than molecules in air

The track was like a thorn in his back
As for the rhymes, I'll give y'all fair warnin', it's crack
Whoever start smokin', come back
Quit, or catch a heart attack up in some bum shack
Sharper than a thumb tack
His body was a temple made of chemicals to the dimple
To him still it wasn't so simple
Kept his right and left hand beefin'
One knockin' teeth in, the other one chiefin'
But first, this song'll make you wanna stomp ya ten toes
Swooped up hooptie Pinto off a pimp my whip
Before they put the system in and had it all stripped
It ain't no need to trip
Indeed he ripped scripts from here to Jebip
Get a grip, leave it a dag mess for beer
Burnin' like a bag of schwag cess in the air

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