a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

cella dwellas - wussdaplan lyrics

cella dwellas + “wussdaplan”
[emcee(s): phantasm and u.g.]
[producer(s): cella dwellas (phantasm & u.g.)]
[keyboards: dj slice]

[intro: cella dwellas]
phantasm: heads better recognize the flavor. cella dwellas coming like this. what’s the plan to the federation?
u.g.: yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! ha! yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! word up, what’s the plan in philly, baby?
phantasm: what’s the plan out in new york?
u.g.: what’s the plan in the carolinas, north and south?
phantasm: out in jersey?
u.g.: we’re about to show y’all. come on, son, bless ‘em

[verse 1: phantasm]
phantasm, cella dwellas repping, no question
duck down in bucktown when i draw smif+n+wessun
these crab emcees, their “time’s up”—quoted by o.c
faking jacks and they’re p+ssycat like josie. verbally
i spit hot shots that rock n+ggas’ knots
with infrared rhymes—that means x marks the spot
my mouth claps, wigs get pushed back when i let off
big raps and ride these beats like amtrak. if you need
beats like these, come see us with five g’s
before we go to eight joints and five royalty points
any man i’ll slaughter. glad i got a son
not a daughter, thinking ‘bout this five+and+a+quarter
bm. see, them fronting n+ggas is crabs. when i
bust aks like arabs, they get peeled like scabs
every time i speak sh+t, i freak sh+t
cds always coming with that unique sh+t
[verse 2: u.g.]
yeah, pa
don’t sweat it. automatics embedded in my waistline
taste wine, hang with cats that do crime
two nines like larry fishburne in deep cover
puta, shoot ya, knock off your future
dreams of bellies and cream, money wrapped in rubber bands
and money clips, trips, cruises around the globe
tommy robe, open+toed slippers, fila
see eyes thick, fly like an insect. inject
sick thoughts, polo sport, fragrance+layering
[?] on my finger and gucci [?] jingling
mingling with thugs with scarred mugs as trademarks
to spark lye, exhale and smoke with a wigged eye
think i can’t keep it real or we’re faking
jacks? hit you with the mac and leave your body shaking
face+down, blowing bubbles in dirty puddles
of water. i slaughter n+ggas [?]—what?

[interlude: cella dwellas]
phantasm: yeah, out in atlanta
u.g.: what’s the plan in va?
phantasm: in new orleans?
u.g.: know’m saying? what’s the plan out in florida?
phantasm: like that
[verse 3: phantasm]
back again, it’s
the cella+to+the+dwella, phan+to+the+tasm
tall+to+the+man, u.+to+the+g. what’s the plan?
i got sk!lls for years and start to ill
when i down more beers than norm from cheers
here we go, yo. what’s the “scenario” like
tribe and leaders, lighting n+ggas up with the heaters
props for blocks and block skins, flocks and flocks
guns, glocks, and glocks. girls? i got ‘em locked hot
who crew wants to test? then you’ll get tossed like salad
dressing ‘cause we be the best in this profession—that’s
no question. f+ck every station that fronted on airplay
when they know the dwellas do damage like x+rays
some think s+x plays an important role in hip hop
but i won’t stop ‘til i get my props and have sh+t locked like fort knox
all i need is my n+gga u.g., an mpc, and an sp
good promotion, two videos, and we’ll rule this industry
who you be? your homies got you gassed like getty. we got
you charged like eveready. talking “let’s battle”? that sh+t is petty
you got no clout, no name, no label. this is
food on my table. n+gga, your highest bill is cable
i’m out, but no doubt i’ll be back again. phan+
+tasm, cella dwellas representing brooklyn

[verse 4: u.g.]
check it. i’ll play
my roof like batman in gotham city, watching
crimes, blasting nines. chains hanging like vines
get sn+tched where i come from, dum+dums flatten
cats when u.g. c+ck gats, float like a ac’
vigor, play the back, swigger on cognac while
people watch my every move like the o.j. trial
sounds exotic, flow erotic, melodic, verbal
software trapped in my cap like johnny mnemonic
scripts i write are ancient, my tablets
attract like magnets and hit your eyesight like carats
run for your barracks ‘cause the war is on, ese
guns i blast be loud like car c/a
what, what, what, what?!?
[outro: cella dwellas]
phantasm: what’s the plan out in d.c.?
u.g.: know’m saying? what’s the plan out in cali? ha!
phantasm: out in canada?
u.g.: yeah, yeah, what’s the plan in oakland, baby? what, what?
phantasm: yeah, what’s the plan out there in texas?
u.g.: what’s the plan in j+pan? ha!
phantasm: what’s the real plan out there in london?
u.g.: yeah, what’s the real plan in la, baby? what, what?
phantasm: tim westwood, big up and all that
u.g.: word up, big up to my man tim westwood, it’s so good, know’m saying?
phantasm: cds
u.g.: yeah, forever
phantasm: ‘96

- cella dwellas lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS