jugga the bully - feel me lyrics
[hook]
to my folk in the front (raise it up raise it up)
flick ya lighters spark the blunts (blaze it up blaze it up)
aye gull! pop that trunk (shake it up shake it up)
i know ya’ll feel me don’t front (make it crunk make it crunk)
jugz put ya body where it’s hard-to-smell…cover up ya scent when i spark-the-el
punk don’t front it ain’t hard-to-tell…ya’ll can’t win like gargamel
how you go’n shine if it’s dark-as-h-ll? believe it’s hot if it comes-from-me
cops can’t take my guns-from-me….f-kk ya’ll record company!!
all ya’ll songs sound dumb-to-me….flossed out rappers just b-ms-to-me
ya’ll don’t really want none-of-me….n-gg- this atlantis we under-sea
run-from-me…make-some-tracks…before i get mad and break-some-backs
where the fake-ones-at? i hate-them-cats…ya’ll just wack–face-them-facts
if you got problems? blaze-them-gats…the bully been phat since the page-in-the-back
of blaze magazine…spit so ill…even deejays catch aids-from-the-wax
you hate-on-the-raps…but quote-the-rhymes…in the meantime? i’m strokin’-dimes
everywhere i go: tote-the-nine–you cuss from behind like i broke-in-line
don’t n-body flow dope-as-mine…even ku klux got open-minds
sh-t-i-spit’s-combustible…chicks-i-hit-caught-multiples
trick-my-click-got-local-pull…the flow you sweat? got-that-locked
b-tches you sweat? got-that-knocked…gun on my waist…and i got-that-c-cked…
[hook]
i don’t mean to offend with this observation….but ya’ll full of sh-t like constipation
n-gg-s don’t want no confrontation…shut the f-kk up with that conversation
pull a n-gg- card like concentration…bust shots at the cops not cooperatin’
see you in court for the arbitration…everything i drop be hot-like-cajun
cut mo’ gulls than a operation…takin’-em-home…makin’-em-moan
more -ssets than a savings-and-loan…if they man show up i’m breakin’-some-bones
claimin’-the-throne…livin’-with-the-stress…fittin’-in-a-vest like n-gg-s-in-the-west
cuz figures-that-you-net don’t mean a thing when you got ten slugs sittin’-in-ya-chest
givin’-it-my-best…leave warriors-bruised…kno beats phat like victoria-b–bs
i’m up in new york screwin’ foreigners-dude….you motel 6, we astoria-rooms
send you to the coroner grabbin’-the-mic….over ya’ll heads like satellites
ya’ll think you fly? i’mma cancel-ya-flight…to h-ll with a mc battle-let’s-fight
you down-for-that? what you rollin’ up? we smokin’ on pounds-of-that
sittin’ in a cloud-in-fact…they never found the strap but they’ll find you around-the-back
a n-gg- sick of all these clowns-in-rap…all n-gg-s got is lip-to-front
and since ya’ll got that i got clips-to-dump…but not until after i hit-this-blunt….
[hook]
if you ain’t givin’ head? hoe-you-can-leave…if you ain’t chip in you ain’t smokin’-the-weed
all ya’ll dough hand it over-to-me…have you on a respirator just so-you-can-breathe
make it so ya eyes can’t focus-to-see…i’ve had it up to here with these bogus-emcees
all i’m here for is servin’-rap-groupies…flows be tighter than virgin-gnat-booty
words-react-smooth to the beats-i-choose…lines i spit fit like feet-to-shoes
might slur my words when i drink-the-booze…you must be dumb if you think-i’ll-lose
jugz got ya whole crew singin’-the-blues…like bobby-bland–you a copy-man
when the smoke clears you prolly-a-fan….if you talk noise? i’mma body-a-fan
bust up in ya set with the shotty-in-hand…cross the thin line between wrath-and-hate
sniper on the roof to -ss-ssinate…make peace with god don’t procrastinate
point blank…whether slow or the faster-pace…my -ss-is-great you exaggerate
since you so g-ssed i’mma p-ss it in-ya-face if it’s tween me and you? you coming last-in-the-race…
[hook]
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