|
|
Download Now!!!
Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Bang it in ya Whip |
Album: | The Prophecy | Genres: | 15 |
Year: | 1998 |
Length: | 258 sec |
Lyrics:
[intro: babyface fensta, (sha-cronz), ] *echo* (these punk-ass niggaz, they ain't ready) (we made men, haha!) younahi'msayin? what, nigga? (we--we been doin' this for years) Y'all niggaz can't see this shit
Can't even fuck with this track (ain't nothin could stop us) you know, on the corse of desperados (united kingdom to the fullest) word is bond (sha-cronz) peace to the gods, uk, poppa wu (recognize) buddha monk, sha-cronz in the house (before we bring in drama) Youknowwhati'msayin? all my niggaz about to get hit. word up. (who we are, who we be) all my mommys about to get hit (what we stand for) justice and equality All my boriquas out there, too, up on the set youknowwhati'msayin? Hit them niggaz like that, yo
[babyface fensta] It's the sinister, sick like clamidia Burn like no vagina, your retina Screwin like you hard, while I lick off your head Pussy upper lips quiver as fright creaps in like a boa constrictor Blow to your ego, clostrophobia, new sensation, revelation Niggaz turn bitch, emotional winch Get slapped around like faggot niggaz frontin You unleashed the beast like the niece from garfield east Does the heads of the 12 priests, crab louse, won't catch it Shut the fuck up, your mouth is like punks (shut up!), always runnin (ha!) From the '90's, so I never will like onions and pills (zu-zu-zu-zu-zu) Leave you weary, teary-eyed and dreary (he-heh-heh-huu-ha!) Create havoc with your bodily structure, your natural impulses (ah-ah-ah) your sexual cravings, your freakish indulgence Criminal antics, (hoo) your symnatics don't amaze me Fuck around, you'll be pushin up daisies Like them niggaz who slept when assassins crept through your villa Grab you up... ahhh!
[buddha monk] Who's the killa? monk iodine You got your eye on mines, niggaz, you wanna take mines? Feel one down to your spine, several parts almost never find Royal blood kin on your fetal line, I'm prepared to deal with fetal lines Yo, check it out... I took, blow, yo, you ran up the block and stuck 4 You should've known it was them bones, next page, close the door Wait, I ain't finished yet with you so-called pros You niggaz is packed like fuckin compactors I'm blowin ya' back out, callin me the subtractor The actual nist gets broke like a wish And marrow bones stay parrow in my zone like shadows Niggaz is clones, blast off the iron palm, you're kept from sacred songs The basics is first to hurts, so don't think fuckin zu's could rest in dirt The projects is to eject shop up yets The center, niggaz are scared to enter in It's buddha monk, throw your head in the cha-a-am-ber
[sha-cronz] Yo, peep the real pro, put my skills to work That show's benz and about a mil' I'm worth Get higher than 10 kilohertz Blank on tracks like hungry rodents Rappers actin funny style and holdin Frontin, posted up like bowlin Pins rollin in chevy's, while you're goin broke Holdin a benz, I'm heavy on the neck Pissin weights, can't risk kuwait And objects, get these papes and escape Ballad and cronz is like a midget to an ape Don't care if you got a biscuit and, uh, 8 Niggaz rhymin with you, drama mental, time ain't with you Left dead, cops can't find a motherfuckin pistol What?
[chorus (x2): buddha monk] We catchin large amounts, over-seas and upstate Sha-cronz, buddha monk and our nigga, babyface It's an mc's fate to test the zu's great And we won't stop, until death is a bedmate
[buddha monk] What? alright, check this fly shit, this do or die shit Monk drive-by hit, yea, bang it in ya whip If I do it any way I wanna do it Let me roast punks off this motherfuckin track that dumps I'll elect to annihilate, serve on a fake mc Who wanna test thee? ha, nigga please I'll serve you this here remedy, g-o-d fuckin up ya whole family Yea, you know that's got to be me, swingin like tarzan through trees With a 9 in my hand, mane anybody who wants to battle this mc And if that's not enough, then I'll huff and I'll puff And mack yo' motherfuckin ass down, now stay down, ya low down Better yet, here's a shot from the 4-pound And the cops can't help ya, they yellin, 'blue-uniformed man is down'
[babyface fensta] What, niggaz, what?
Download Now!!!
|
Copyright © 2020 Zortam.com. All Rights Reserved.
|