Songtexte

Yeah, I'm back to drive you crazy With that hottest shit in the streets No if's, and's or maybe's Errbody gather around from here to little Haiti 'Cause it's Busta (Luda) And (Young Weezy, baby) With Flip Moon and DTP, shit be gettin' ugly Weezy, tell 'em what you rep (I represent Young Money) Yeah I know you got me, homie (Busta, Busta, I got you) Real talk (I'm goin' in) Get 'em killa I'm about to blast off, call it rocket science Daddy fat stacks, check my pocket science And if ya wanna try it c'mon and try it You don't want beef, I'll put you on a diet I'm comin' through ya house with them choppas firin' And all adults die, leave the toddlers cryin' I've been a soldier, never met Private Ryan Hey, welcome to the jungle and I'm the lion I'm dippin' in my coupe with the top behind me I'm not the president but I see cops behind me Well, fuck 'em, fuck 'em, fuck 'em and they cannot stop me So I will be drivin' like Ricky Bobby It's my quality like Whitney's Bobby I'm skatin' on blades like Sidney Crosby (That's hot) Sharper than a ginsu, shawty You not Beyonce but I can get you body Now you know what we about to do We goin' full throttle Niggas go and toss ya champagne And throw a fuckin' bottle (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) I got 'em, Ludaa I throw it up like a cap and tassel, I got my rap diploma I throw it up like the gangs in Southern California I got 'em burners on ya, I be lookin' at a Russian rouga I be lookin' like a human torch and I be lookin' like Freddy Couger So don't be sleepin' on me, this ain't a fuckin' dream I pass the rock to these jays like I'm on they fuckin' team But I ain't slagin' dope, I slang Luda vision Hip-Hop's God in these jeans, now that's true religion You couldn't fill my shoes, you couldn't fill my jockey My niggas fight over ice like we been playin' hockey I hope you get the goal, I hope you get the point I'm on a roll with this paper, I hope you get the joint I hope you fire it up, I hope it burn slow I welcome chicks to my nest, I let these birds know And eagles fly alone, so I'm about to take flight And throw it up like ya girl's dress on prom night Now you know what we about to do We goin' full throttle Niggas go and toss ya champagne And throw a fuckin' bottle (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) When I spit, niggas be askin', "Who dat?" It be the God and I know you niggas really wanna know How the hell I do dat and the way that I come through And kill every single thing when I rhyme Never mind, niggas can't compete when I spit a little beat same time (Bring the beat back) My fans will leave ya fuckin' ass leakin' For sayin' you nicer than me, hypothetically speakin' Cool and Dre bring the fuckin' beat back for no reason (Rewind it) Niggas know my rap and know me for always beastin', okay When they see me they stutta, niggas know where I'm from Scoon nu, nu, nu, bada, ba, be, like the speakin' in tongue I single handily move like a thousand niggas kick on Trample niggas like a heard of hippo's (Nigga) When I get hot I pop like oil That's when they call me crystal (Bitch) I seek revenge like the Calte Monty Crystal Crack niggas like the co, swallow a fifth for 'Sisco A gangsta cat walkin' territorial wherever the piss go Now that I'm pissy drunk, why the hell you wanna thug and holla? I'll change that and have you consider studyin' caballa (Shit) They done named me Camala (Hey) 'Cause I am the giant flatten niggas with my foot Who wanna try it? Now you know what we about to do We goin' full throttle Niggas go and toss ya champagne And throw a fuckin' bottle (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) When the game was gettin' weak And everybody started winin' And when the streets needed us We came at the perfect time (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em) (You know we got 'em)
Writer(s): Christopher Bridges, Writers Unknown Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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