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I love my microphone clear, ice cold beer, premiere
My news and sweet, nothing's in ya ear I treat them like they outta be treated Like they want their cutty licked They better get their girlfriend to come eat it I don't tongue-twa, I rock nonstop Hip hop got me locked, competition get props The bar, you can front it, got rhymes by the hundred New York City creepin it, delightedly blunted I love to stay high, Pop pass the la Nigga caught a black eye for tellin the white lie Don't even try or you just might die for real All ya ally cat niggas gotta fry Makin it hard for me and my squad Doin shit I can't disregard, my nigga just got scarred for life Do ya thing, be the men, be mice Hiddin behind mics, with lyrics that sound nice Softer than a milk shake, whole image is fake I use they ass for bait, throw them in a lake Let the crab snap em, my enemies clap 'em Some bring lips abyss I feel it's ("Time for some action!"- B-Real) Like a flick, loaded with guns Better yet like a chick, who posses big buns I stay screamin on duns, shinin with my sons Runnin up in lady, bangin them like tums Chorus: Pop Da Brown Hornet (Down Low Rec- |
ka)
You know you wanna ride with us (No doubt) Take note before we bust (We pullin out) Follow me up son (Follow me up son) follow me up (follow me up) Follow, follow, follow me up son [Down Low Recka] Let me tell ya somethin, don't fall for the foolery Hip hop ain't live like it used it be, one step from the eulogy The future looks promisin though, got team reunited And god risin, GP's set to blow The pyramid complete, been done, I'ma start barkin on ya tricks for fun Ya currency holdin, this is in ya pockets swollen Lookin dead into the light, and can't see where ya goin Pull it reversal, you better stop beatin hip hop before it hurts you These laws is universal From my home to your home, from Cairo to Rome I'm here to the Twilight Zone, the facts roam I remember when I used to sit back, smokin a bone Wonderin if I'mma blaze hip hop before it's gone Brothers is bustin at rap with macks like drome Niggas livin in glass labs, throwin stones I'm walkin over light shine on, my back to it Eyes peeled, so I can see when I go thru it Y'all hoes ain't all about nothin Cuz you don't fear, don't say shit and just keep doin it <- |
br>Chorus
[Pop Da Brown Hornet] You just above average, I'm superstar status Microphone savage, devour the baddest Ghetto fabulous, in hip hop madness Before I'm done with this, I'll be sittin on mad cabbage At times I'm on the low, at times I'm in ya face Occupy the time slot, you occupy space You gettin outta line boy, stay in your place The wifey in my kitchen, beggin me to taste The way she chef it up, should I toss that ass up? You treat her like a queen, Pop treat her like a slut It's all about a nut, cuz love don't give a fuck Finger in the butt, she know to keep her mouth shut Check it, let me proceed I'm trippin off weed A lot of cats are trippin off jealously and greed Can't make it on the else, so they sit around and plot Five hundred in they pot, so case around from rot There's a thin line between failure and success It's like we uptown, know I always got it fresh Head throbbin G, and off like a bank robber Meditate, get up, run thru the potter Only cuz I gotta, I take MC's out You thought I was a shark, cut, took the wrong route Now you assed ou tnowhere to be found Fuckin with Pop Da Brown, baby Chorus |
TEKSTY WG WYKONAWCY [ ostatnia aktualizacja: 01:00 03.09.2010 ]