Jon Bet - Sports Betting

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Jon Bet

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Description

Bet Bet, John Peel Wiki, FANDOM powered by Wikia

Bet Bet

Bet Bet (English: But While) is a Latvian rock band, founded in 1991, lead by singer Zigfrīds Muktupāvels, drummer Guntars Račs and guitarist Ugis Tirzītis. The band have several Latvian Music Awards as well as Golden albums and still perform till this day. In 2006 bass player Andris Alviķis joined the band replacing Aivis Kalvans. Singer Zigfrīds Muktupāvels was part of the Latvian sextet soprano group Bonaparti.lv, who tried to get their Italian song 'Questa Notte' in the 2007 Eurovision Song Contest for Latvia. The group failed to reach the final stage of the Eurovision Song Contest.

Links To Peel

Peel got a hold of a Latvian compilation album called Mikrofons 91 from the Latvian label RiTonis in 1992 and mentioned on his 22 August 1992, that he couldn't help humming to one of the tracks from the album called Es Tevi Nemīlu ('I Don't Love You') from the group Bet Bet. In the summer of that year, Peel visited Riga, capital city of Latvia and the other Baltic states including Russia as part of his work with the BBC World Service.

Shows Played

John Peel's Bet Bet - Es Tevi Nemīlu

  • 22 August 1992: Es Tevi Nemīlu (v/a album - Mikrofons-91. Rokaptaujas Dziesmas) RiTonis

Other articles

Jon Connor - BET Cypher 2013 Lyrics, MetroLyrics

BET Cypher 2013 Lyrics Jon Connor What does this song mean to you? Popular Right Now

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language:

You watching this, I don't need your co-sign

Regardless I'll be chilling up in the hammock in no time

Hawaian coast line, my girl's so fine

Bikini blow-drying up on the clothes line

No mind on the bovine

I pucked up the blue pill we were supposed to eat

I'm intolerant to the lactose in the corporate teet

I'm starting not to want to participate or compete

Weren't we meant to live a life more complete

You know there's people in Peru right now that are hunter gatherers

And many recent studies have found that they're happier than we are

I'm to rapping what the Kardashians are to PR

Preface my name with a D-R, huh

But I made a plan to kick the game in its smelly rectum

And I don't deviate like a healthy septum

I'm the truth and it hurts fools

Yeah go type Wax in ya Youtube search tools

And buy some merch fools

[Verse 2: Rapsody]

Despite Sprite I thrist for mics

Like the look on racists' face if Kanye was Christ

Put fear in a poltergeist

He shaking twice

Spit something that the Pope won't like

I'm hoping Mike will understand my ultralight

Like a Sosa night

Run home to momma, damn she nice

Moonwalking, I'm just a talking

And it's really all light

10% dis or I can give you 90 tonight

Hurting for life

Turn 'em blue like I'm Walter White

Couldn't face me with Skype, 'til we cake like Tina and Ike

At your throat boy

Fly like Elliott's bike

Extraterrestrial flow, I'm so outta they sight

In the stars, where Kendrick threw bars

That G5 praying to God, a brought in the squad

And look how I bodied it like Playboy cards

Now they outta control like I said I'm the Queen of New York

[Verse 3: Emis Killa]

Today we are going

Out baby it's wow

I bring you to the moon

Say hi to the world

You purr and say "miao" and

I'll bring you the Chanel

I take five stars from the sky

And I put them in this hotel

Brr, I'm more than cold, I'm Sub-Zero

The sun kisses beautiful people

And I burn like a vampire

Get undressed, enjoy the tropical sea

Which is the end of the world f**k 2012 off

If I would have fistfight

And would take a lot

I'll fall down but the on a red carpet

I've got so much swag that if we go around

People don't know what I see

The panorama of my shoes

I've got a watch that shines so much that

I don't even see what f***ing time it is

I treat you as q queen, because I'm a king

If I were Christ

I would wear the gold edition crown of thorns

I'm getting paid

I finally made it, but haters don't' want to see me win

Well I hate the word swag

I hate people that say my G and fam

I hate I gotta listen

I'm what Hip Hop is missing

After this one they'll consider me competition

For the record just because you rapping like you mad

You snapping, you just sounding raspy

In Atlanta we don't rather that

I bet he get body bagged

I bet he wouldn't win a boxing match

I'm quick on my feet, I can dodge a jab

You run you gunna run out of gas

Run up get done up like I was in Karate class

Ya body get sawed in half

Ya faking and rockin' narco Prada bag

Off my logic pad

Dunkin' on 'em like I'm Dominique

Reppin' Strange my chain is stuntin' 'em by the B

Off the chain I should probably party with Charlie Sheen

From the South but I wasn't brought up like Paula Dean

And y'all are lame I'm 'bout to X y'all out

I write whatever and f**k it if I let Nas down

Yeah, uh-yeah, get my album

[Verse 5: Jon Connor]

Yo the flow is timeless like a diamond

So when I'm rhyming, I'm mining

They said I was stuck in the rough

And you was just lucky to find it

You was foolish as Frankie Lymon

If you decided to try it or fight it

This is Andre the Giant vers' Daniel Bryan

Yes you want it hot, well allow me to change the climate

If the shoe was on the other foot you wouldn't even know how to tie it

Somebody tell Rita Ora I sort got feelings for her

Got a crib out in Georgia we could raise a son and a daughter

Or we could out to Florida where the weather is just as gorgeous

Baby I ain't playing no games like I ran out of quarters

Hold up this is getting outta hand

'Cause in a year I'mma be saying I'm not her man

Doin' the U are not the father dance

'Cause this is Michigan, proof feminine rappers be talking

Ain't nobody genuine, I be killing it

They can't touch him, everybody feeling it

But look I cleared out all y'all that got in the way

And y'all knew that I was ill, but now my doctor is Dre

Jon bet

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  • Jon Connor – BET Cypher 2013 Lyrics, Genius Lyrics

    BET Cypher 2013 Jon Connor BET Cypher 2013 Lyrics

    You watching this, I don’t need your co-sign

    Regardless I’ll be chilling up in the hammock in no time

    Hawaian coast line, my girl’s so fine

    Bikini blow-drying up on the clothes line

    No mind on the bovine

    I’m starting not to want to participate or compete

    Weren’t we meant to live a life more complete

    You know there’s people in Peru right now that are hunter gatherers

    And many recent studies have discovered that they’re happier than we are

    Preface my name with a D-R, huh

    But I made a plan to kick the game in its smelly rectum

    I’m the truth and it hurts fools

    Yeah go and type Wax in ya YouTube search tools

    And buy some merch fools

    It’s unbelievable, put fear in a poltergeist

    He shaking twice, spit something that the Pope won’t like

    I’m hoping Mike will understand my ultralight

    Moonwalking, I’m just a talking and it’s really all light

    10% dis or I can give you 90 tonight

    Extraterrestrial flow, I’m so outta they sight

    In the stars, where Kendrick threw bars, you was abroad

    That G5 praying to God, I brought in the squad

    Now they outta control like I said I'm the Queen of New York

    Today we are going out baby it’s wow

    I bring you to the moon, say hi to the world

    You purr and say “miao” and I’ll bring you the Chanel

    I take five stars from the sky and I put them in this hotel

    Brr, I’m more than cold, I’m Sub-Zero

    Get undressed, enjoy the tropical sea

    Which is the end of the world fuck 2012 off

    If I would have fistfight and would take a lot

    I’ll fall down but the on a red carpet

    I’ve got so much swag that if we go around

    People don’t know what I see

    The panorama or my shoes

    I’ve got a watch that shines so much that

    I don’t even see what fucking time it is

    I treat you as q queen, because I’m a king

    If I were Christ, I would wear the gold edition crown of thorns

    But haters don’t’ want to see me win

    I hate people that say "my G" and "fam"

    After this one they’ll consider me competition

    For the record just because you rapping like you mad

    Don't mean you snapping, you just sounding raspy

    In Atlanta we don’t ride to that

    I bet he get body bagged

    I bet he wouldn’t win a boxing match

    I’m quick on my feet, I could dodge a jab

    You run up, you gunna run out of gas

    Cause I'm on top and I'm rhymin'

    And choppin' like I was in Karate class

    Ya body get sawed in half

    You're faker than a knock-off Prada bag, off my launching pad

    Off the chain, I should probably party with Charlie Sheen

    And y’all are lame I’m ‘bout to X y’all out

    Yo the flow is timeless like a diamond

    So when I’m rhyming, I’m mining

    They said I was stuck in the rough

    And you was just lucky to find it

    If you decided to try it or fight it

    This is Andre the Giant vers' Daniel Bryan

    Yes you want it hot, well allow me to change the climate

    If the shoe was on the other foot you wouldn’t even know how to tie it

    Somebody tell Rita Ora I sort got feelings for her

    Got a crib out in Georgia we could raise a son and a daughter

    Or we could go out to Florida where the weather is just as gorgeous

    Baby I ain’t playing no games like I ran out of quarters

    Hold up this is getting outta hand

    ‘Cause in a year I'mma be saying I’m not her man

    Doin’ the U are not the father dance

    Ain’t nobody genuine, I be killing it

    They can’t touch him, everybody feeling it

    But look I cleared out all y’all that got in the way

    And y’all knew that I was ill, but now my doctor is Dre

    Man Loses Bet On Jon Snow - s Parentage; Must Swear Fealty to his Best Friend – AiPT!

    Man Loses Bet On Jon Snow’s Parentage; Must Swear Fealty to his Best Friend

    BAYONNE, NEW JERSEY — James Neidhart lost a bet he was certain he would win. And he’s not happy. “I can’t believe something as crucial to the Game of Thrones plot as Jon Snow’s lineage ended up being so painfully obvious; George R.R. Martin, the master of trope subversion himself — I thought for sure he was gonna pull the rug out from under us one last time,” says the hirsute, two-hundred-eighty pound, bespectacled thirty-five-year-old incongruously wearing a diaphanous silk dress not unlike that of a Westerosi prostitute.

    Neidhart is referring to the Game of Thrones Season 6 finale, “Winds of Winter,” wherein Jon Snow’s mother is confirmed to be Lyanna Stark, Ned Stark’s younger sister. “I mean, come on. The ‘R + L = J’ theory is like Robert Baratheon warhammer to the face levels of ‘no duh,’ to everyone and their Old Nan at this point. And now my best friend — who can’t even name all three of Daenerys’ dragons much less the combined strength/numbers of House Manderly and House Hornwood — gets to act like he’s some kind of GoT expert all of a sudden. It’s pathetic.”

    “Promise me, Ned. Promise me this won’t be the most telegraphed freaking event in all of fantasy writing,” says Neidhart of the revelation in the Game of Thrones Season 6 finale.

    “Sure, I probably wouldn’t have come to the realization that Lyanna was the mother myself if I didn’t spend at bare minimum, six hours a day browsing various A Song of Ice and Fire message boards and the Game of Thrones subreddits but still… so obvious. Way to be predictable, GRRM.”

    “Oh crap,” he says sheepishly, looking around. “I almost forgot: All hail King Neal Brackman, first of his name, he with the prodigious genitalia. Long and uncut may he reign.” Neidhart hangs his head for a moment in defeat and then after what seems like several minutes of silent self-loathing, finally composes himself. “I have to end every sentence like that from here on out, just so you know. A bet’s a bet.” He repeats the verbal salute to his best friend once more, lips quivering with constrained belligerency the entire time.

    When asked if his revealing attire is part of losing the bet as well, James only half nods. “Well, kind of. Neal said I had to pick a character from Season 1 to dress like for a month straight and well, this just happened to be the most comfortable. Whatever. So I have to swear fealty to him, bend the knee whenever he’s within fifty yards, dress like Ros for a month straight… and he’s most likely going to cuckold me by sleeping with my wife due to the lord’s right to the first night. Quite often. Lots and lots of cuckolding. Which makes sense given the context of GRRM’s writing, considering my wife is his first cousin and all. But there’s plenty of story still to be told, so we’ll see who gets the last laugh. All hail King Neal…”

    Jon Snow’s father hasn’t yet been confirmed… so there’s still a chance for James Neidhart’s tinfoil theory. (But it’s most likely Rhaegar Targaryen.)

    When asked who he thinks would have made a better choice for Jon Snow’s parents, Neidhart adjusts the hem of his dress and crosses his legs in an accidental/repulsive parody of Sharon Stone from Basic Instinct. “As it stands, Rob being Half Stark/Half Targaryen — it’s just so mundane. The following is a semi-tinfoilish theory of mine — but I think with the Starks being known as the Kings of Winter that it only makes sense for one of Jon Snow’s parents to be one of the Others. You know, the White Walkers. Maybe even the Night’s King son himself. Why do you think every house in Game of Thrones has menacing slogans like ‘Hear Me Roar’ and ‘Fire and Blood’ and then the Starks have some Aesopian ‘Winter is Coming’ bullshit? ‘Winter is Coming’ isn’t as innocent as it seems — it’s a sexual boast my friends. Winter is indeed, coming. And it’s going to bukkake right the hell over anyone that stands in the Starks’ way from here on out. Mark my words.”

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