Songtext Come on (feat. boot camp clik) von Dj Clue

Original

Bewerten sie:

Abstimmung von benutzern: 0.0/10 - Stimmen insgesamt: 0

Ändern video(1 von 3)

Come on (feat. boot camp clik)

featuring Boot Camp Clik

[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 muthafuckin 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, "Fuck 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
Cuz we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked
Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me
So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker

[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 fuck wit the Ruck cuz 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 fuckin 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 cuz 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

Danke, weil sie diesen text korrigieren

künstler*

songtitel*

email*

abonniere den newsletter

songtext*

featuring Boot Camp Clik

[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 muthafuckin 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, "Fuck 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  
Cuz we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked  
Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me  
So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker

[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 fuck wit the Ruck cuz 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 fuckin 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 cuz 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