Sound Bwoy Bureill

歌詞

Verse One: Boom bye bye/in a botty bwoy head/ the shottie fly now/the botty ly like dead/ 2 shots dead to him chin/enemy a friend/ fake the funk/I put the junk to an end/ Now who da rude bwoy/wan come tess dogg/ I find his family/and I.D. em in da morgue/ I bet you never thought I bust led/ To prize/I'm a fortified blunt head just like a dread/ You cant tess the champion sound/You gettin bucked down/ recognize the boot camp click/in a de Bucktown/ Gun thirsty little bastard/always blasted/ from the sess of chocolate/from my dick gastin/ You say you number one wicked selecta/ I say you punani/and I wetcha/ Keep the bull/before I pull this here trigga/ cause you don't wanna tess me/when I'm tipsy off the liquor/ Like a punk they call McGirt/got his feelings hurt/ showed his true colors/had to yank up his skirt/ now he's in misery/tryin to cop a plea/ led to his head/from gun clapper number 3/ see/lick off a shot you no dick rida/ lick a shot punani/not gun fire/ Now everybody wanna be dongongon/ all around New York niggas be talkin/but we be stalkin/ in the docks when the gun starts buckin/ but in the day/be wary of where you be walkin/ Chorus DON'T...DON'T....DON'T you ever mention bout you wan tess the champion sound/ leave it to de people that can you know that can when people see them a ball fa LEAVE! Verse Two: Me naw sex/me ruff like the wicked you fe me/ the motherfucker that be buggin over truth you see/ original/criminal/run in town/crime pays/ thats when I practised/your act if/you wan get blasted by my nine shot/come around my block/pon the night spot/ in the Pine box/Murderah...Botty bwoy killa/Golden power filla/ we bout to get illa/ Sound bwoy/ya got nuff reason to worry/ cummin wit my troops/we about to bury/ betta pack ya dubs and move in a hurry/Ease off sean/ Lookin at my pager/it's about that time/ to load up the 9/and do my derelict crime/ warriors/conquerors/the man before ya/ Mr. Ripper/a.k.a. the enemy killa/ my man wit the weed/is my man in deed/ and all you sucky-ducky niggas catch nots wit speed/ Talkin bout you have sound/ah my sound you wan tess/ You neva know/that when it comes to championship/ is we dat have de management/ and carry mack/use you for good use/cuz wee de good crew LEAVE! Verse Three: Laud!/Some bwoy wan get dead tonite duke/ as I retrieve the 2-5 from my timboots/ Target pon sight/trick up and cock/ adjust your pupils to see a dead bwoy walk/ Nuff pussyhole gwan die dis year/ here comes the bootcamp/slide it to the rear/ Its the rain cummin like a hurricane lickin shots/ more untouchable/than niggas wit de chicken pox/ So/emcees get lifted when I'm spliffted/ Nigga guard ya grill/cause Louisville packs the biscut/ In the session/Smif N Wessun/O-G's see/gun clapper number 1/ wit my nigga D-O-G.... We bring the realness/feel this/boom it's Black Moon reveal this/ we come to let you know/what the deal is/ Straight up we serve justice/so if you can't be trusted/ may you return where the dust is.. There is many sound thats goin around/and goin on/ and gwan like a clown/but I'm tellin you..Clean up your act/ and come to de livestock cuz you a deadstock from mornin to de evenin/now everthing changed...