bumpy knuckles – bumpy bring it home (featuring billy danz of m.o.p.) lyrics
ayo, turn the, turn the music up some more
in the headphones for me
check it out [c’mon!]
you ready, it’s b-mpy knuckles baby
sendin this out to my n-gg-s
all them hardcore street corner, wilders
ha, ha, freddie foxxx baby
that’s right, diamond d baby
[verse 1]
whoever thought that i’d be mr. lyrical flows nice
like sunsets on the rio grande
grantin after sisters checkin out they can can
my lyrical ability keeps them real n-gg-s
that listen to hip hop feelin me
i keep it underground, sound’s a buck china
even in j-pan they know, i’m the ultimate
spit at me verse, like it’s my last one
slow ones, fast ones, i blast past the fake -ss ones
you see, i don’t think no n-gg-‘s nicer than me
i’m not conceited, that’s how i read it, these n-gg-s heated
i dissect your verses like science cl-ss frogs
i see your rap records is swine, like hogs
now cipher, that’s like turnin down janet for mich-lle pfeiffer
see freddie foxxx aint wit that
my sh-t is hotter than cayenne pepper, the mic wrecker
the lethal weapon, i keep you high steppin
it’s not my fault that n-gg-s listen to me
and wanna rob sh-t, ’cause i do my motherf-ckin job kid
if you a thug then you recognize what you see before you
eyes and ears said freddie foxxx is here
i been waitin it, doin it, sayin it
rollin by my motherf-ckin self with my burner c-cked slayin it
and i aint seen nothing that could make me believe
there’s a n-gg- rappin liver than me, you feel me
[hook 2x: billy danze]
you in a cl-ss of your own, b-mpy’s in the zone
leave b-mpy alone! b-mpy get it on
b-mpy spit chrome, b-mpy hold a throne
now, b-mpy bring it home!
[verse 2]
i wear rolex watches and alligator shoes
where n-gg-s thought devil jeans was the big news
i had fifty miles on my brand new benz in ’89
when you wanted me to critique your rhyme
it just was all right
n-gg-s brought rappers to me, for approval
now i give you sixteen bars, for removal
i punch you in your temple make you stagger like yeltsin
over hand right to the brain is what you felt son
then i take off my belt son
show you what a whippin is, what a true real mic rippin is
you fake n-gg-s can’t make it hard for real n-gg-s ’cause
there’s no defense for the truth so what the deal n-gg-
no matter who tell it, real n-gg-s always prevail
just like a fake n-gg- always fail
n-gg-s livin in a fairy tale, until they get beef
then he want peace, b-tch, you just a rap p-ssy
you comin just a lyrical lunatic
i make it blacker than midnight at 12 o’clock noon and sh-t
i keep rollin like the black navi with them micky thompsons
halogen lights, i keep my flow tight
the new b-mpy sh-t is like the new jordans when they come out
got emcees rappin wit they gun out
memorize lyrics and i spit ’em to the needy
send love to my n-gg- tweety, and can you feel me
[hook]
[verse 3]
i treat ’em like what stick up kids is to dark alleys
what’s slick rick is to bally’s
what played out ny n-gg-s is to cali
runnin from the i’ll sh-t
i do what record labels don’t like, the real sh-t
money is energy, i’m hyped up
step on stage with that bullsh-t, get hair wiped up
i be up in your crib, with my two black sigs in your ribs
takin everything you got to give
the black robin hood i rock for n-gg-s that can’t afford rolies
ride around and in tagged up stolies
i keep the truth like the holy qu’ran
here’s a game plan, ambush, best attack, hit off my man
i make you n-gg-s listen to some lyrical sh-t
some miracle sh-t, some empirical sh-t
now i’m in flipmode, i got my gun in your brain
and make you run you ch ch ch cha ch ch ch cha chain
b-mpy plays no games, it’s all real here
can’t get my gun in the club, i keep it real near
i’m harder than a bulletproof vest wrapped around a steel pole
six shots all through your body like real soul
james brown or the meters
i’m gunnin for you no talent rap style eaters
when diamond d blessed me i had to come rugged
or unplug it, only true thugs can f-ck sh-t
[hook]
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