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buckshot - feel it lyrics

[swan]
yo, take a walk through the terror dome
instead of duckin little n-gg-s, gettin live when they hear the chrome
where them dollars at? what, n-gg- holla back
is what they screamin, ice gleamin on jumanji plaque
here to rat-a-tat-tat, on a regular
money exchangin, rearrangin on a cellular
we do it up in a benz or a hoop dog
smokin black, listenin to snoop dogg
we them troops dog, that be runnin up, summin up ya money block
smack you all up in your funny top, guns c-ck
in the drop top, headed to the chop shop
gettin ten grand, cuz the handle on your lock pop

[chorus 2x]
throw ya hands in the sky if you feelin this
you can roll a bag of la if you feelin it
you can b-mp it in ya ride, you can park up on the side
you can b-mp to the vibe, if you feelin this

[buckshot]
i’m high when i know i’m sweatin, plus i’m gettin
ready to set like nino brown at the wedding
you a new jack, this ain’t a city
what a pity, i f-ck around, i have to give you fifty
and if i take 49, and you’re left with one
see the one that jammed in ya ear, made ya deaf son
take ya breath son, nah, here’s the oxygen
f-ck it, bring the m-th-f-ckin glocks again
throw ya hands up, when i spit six to tear ya man up
now you can’t stand up, f-cked your whole plan up
every time the gun jam up, the back slam up
upside ya head, give me my respects

[tone cappone]
yo, there’s nowhere to run, there’s nowhere to hide
don’t no one survive, the toast on my side, we both gonna die
a n-gg- and his man tried to front, they both in disguise
see before jesus, the only man chosen was i
and you can a dream or a nightmare, and i’m right there
standin over there, wit a bead and a mic there
puff there, hype there, russell there, mike there
all them n-gg-s watch me embarr-ss you, right there
from brook-nam to queens, all the way to yonkers and back
anywhere you go, you see the knights only attack
n-gg-s flipped it on they back, enormin this tracks
we bombin these cats, like u.s. was bombin iraq

[chorus 2x]

[sweet mellodye]
a real hard head makes a real soft -ss
i thought i told these m-th-f-ckas they ain’t in our cl-ss
quick fast, i strip them from they stripes, sn-tch they thug patch
f-ck that, i make ’em run and get they wife and come back
you dumb black, b-m raps is what y’all got
it’ll take a forest fire, just to make ya hot
and i ain’t got no time for them weak -ss rhymes
and then, when you spittin it’s three and four at a time
come on now, i hate to be rude and sh-t
but it’s only a chosen few that can do this sh-t
i thought you knew this sh-t, and ran through this sh-t
but you still sample sh-t, and gettin sued and sh-t
you know you makin me sick, like the flu and sh-t
and stage ya monkey -ss, leave the zoo and sh-t
you see i rule wit sh-t, wit any bit i spit
that rap crack, you phat, ain’t all that and sh-t

[chorus 2x]

writer: dennis waakop reijers-fraaij / tijs verwest / justin frank / brandon green / paul beauregard / jordan houston / tramar dillard
lyrics © royalty network, warner/chappell music, inc.

- buckshot lyrics

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