Come On feat. Boot Camp Click

歌詞

[Rock] Come on (BCC) Come on (MFC) Come on (BCC) Come on (YEAH!) Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin on my balls Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in (Your Rapper Card?) Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera [Buckshot] Buckshot rock knots wit fists Niggas stay high while I rock wit this Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss I'm wiggin out while I'm diggin out backs Run from the gun claps, run three laps Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts >From the, street Bible or the street Quran Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin strong You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!) But still the bomb [Tek] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin ya chick While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin ya whips Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin like this Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick I keep the livin quarter held down wit two nines One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times So while I'm takin a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit The amount we flip depends on what we get It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone Look, ain't no tellin how many gats I've thrown [Rock] (Steele) Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin wild) Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl) Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets) Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat) [Lidu Rock] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang To the muthaf**kin end, I be doin my thing (YEAH!) Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin Like my nigga Craig and em say, "F**k that shit!" Rockin shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk For real son, now we got mad cops on the block 'cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked Lidu Rock, what the f**k I know y'all niggas mad at me So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthaf**ker [Ruck] You a many style copy-cat,? bendy mile? stockin cap Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them Monkey niggas don't f**k wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great Still bummin money for stoges and a Drakes cake [Steele] Get it straight, y'all niggas f**kin wit some heavyweights Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates Demonstrate, spectacular venacular Smackin ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula Snatchin ya, off the street like police Next week, they find your body washin up on the beach Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool) Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites Callin your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face Sayin our grace before we put our hands in our plates Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day [DJ Clue] DJ Clue, The Professional Part One, you know how we do it Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco My nigga B.I.G. word up And we out, till next time For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657 Aight then