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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
Are you ready for a brother With a mouth full of hand grenades? Watch a brothers tongue serenade With the grace of a razor blade over butter In the middle of a heat wave, peep ways
Got a baby in every part of the city 'Cause I'm street made Did you really want to clash with me? I'ma paint a picture sad to see Like a brother from a rope in an apple tree
Did you really believe these ability's couldn't achieve Filling my pockets with the cheese and the broccoli? Watch you trippin' on some of that shit That be killing off the ozone mention my clique Now she don't want to put her clothes on
You better recognize who to idolize over tracks Or catch a match to the batch Of the kerosene for the pay back 'Cause the S.W. never play that I eliminate them till the moon fade black
Never sentimental on an instrumental When it's complemental to the mental psycho Alpha, disco, quick to split your riddle From the max to the minimal
Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, yeah
Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump
Terminal condition when the mic is in position To slit them from the solar plexus to the neck up Giving them a hemorrhage with the double concussion Propelling through my nemesis multiple combination
In 3D images split a wig when a fool trip Never mind what your sipping on, what you trippin' on? Is it tricks or the rims on the Brougham Or the way my city get it gritty in your time zone?
Monologue get mind blown, keep you ducking In the bushes when the infrared roam Turn up the volume and watch a poetical prophecy properly Rock the philosophy made for the rap game
I paid dues, slayed crews for the rap game Drop flows and got chose for the rap game I'm suicidal off the cliff ready to dive What, what, what, come on
Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, yeah
Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump
Psycho, alphabetical, street ministry
Was it the night we dragged your hommie through the night club Made him fold up when he loc'd up Droppin' heat seekers to his dome Like a hot comb to his dome when he spoke up
All adversaries look away when the A to the K O M A C K Get to rippin' through the cable with the wrath of a bullet Bet your corner catch a ricochet
Propelling parallel with the light speed laid back Like a knock kneed, eye to eye with the enemy While the telepathy proceed to achieve Blowing enemies to a realm in a calm breeze
I shall rip it till my lungs cease Proceed spittin' game in the city streets And continue rippin' heads off of robeast Sincerely yours lack mack with the khakis creased
Whatcha trippin' on?
Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, yeah
Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump
Bring it on, heat it up, let me see how you serve Damn if I ain't superb with it Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump, yeah
Bring it on, heat it up, let me see how you serve 'Damn if I ain't superb with it Pump, pump, pump, pump, whatcha trippin' on? Pump, pump, pump, pump
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