papoose - bang bang lyrics
thug-a –
thug-a –
thug-a –
thug-a –
thug-a-cation.
tupac had the outlaws;
biggie smalls had junior m.a.f.i.a.;
50 cent got the g-unit; jay-z got roc-a-fella;
they say jesus had the disciples.
i present to y’all the nation of thug-a-cation.
awww man, my n—– tydro with his eyes low.
2008 was ours before it even started, is you r-t-rded.
downtown’s c-brown, snipe, flipper the ripper,
mussolini, my n—– strong, we can’t go wrong.
tommy gunz and al capo is getting mad dough,
kay slay eased up,
o-dogg, pusher in the mall, trigger-happy pappy.
and i go by the name of –
ya’ll know what i’m a say already.
ya’ll know what i’m a say.
papoose, pa-poose
[refrain:]
you with the thug-a, thug-a, slip a clip in. (bang bang)
you with them other suckers, suck a d— then. (bang bang)
you with the thug-a, thug-a, ride, yo. (bang bang)
you with them other suckers, die slow. (bang bang)
you with the thug-a, thug-a, slip a clip in. (bang bang)
you with them other suckers, suck a d— then. (same thing)
you with the thug-a, thug-a, ride, yo. (bang bang)
you with them other suckers, die slow.
i know you’re tired of hearing stories ’bout homicide,
i’m bona fide,
promise my life these n—– won’t harm a fly.
dance at a disco,
throw rice at a wedding,
won’t put s— in a diaper, i bang like a lighter.
cocaine wars; take your chain off.
back them for the dog food; man, this stuff ain’t yours.
give me a thousand grams, i’m a let the 4 bang off;
it take more than a key to open my domain doors.
broke the rico, son of sam, it’s some no-name laws.
and i slept with your main broad; what’s your name, lord?
they call me, papoosie, walk with a black uzi.
two thumbs down, you acting in whack movies.
why you did a song with him? he mad moody.
i’ll, don’t touch me, you got the rap cooties.
it’s on when i carry the crons and the caddy,
you can get every tom, d-ck, and harry.
listen,
i hit tom with the long,
d-ck with the fifth,
harry with the cali,
and hop right in my whip.
you won’t hear a thing when p banging that toaster.
p move in silence just like the “p” in pneumonia.
catch you in the ‘ville and chase you from saratoga
slump you on the forn-up’s.
i get a share cake and feed it –
homie, you get a share cake and eat it.
at the end of the day, n—– can’t say i cheated.
i feel every man should get a fair shake and keep it;
i don’t put n—– on, then my plans ain’t completed.
they’d rather listen to hands say then see it;
you can walk a horse to the water, but you can’t make him drink it.
some n—– treat others bad, can’t take the treatment,
treat how you wanna be treated, can’t face the beating,
plans ain’t strategic. disagree, they can’t make agreements,
snakes in the gr-ss; they give a handshake and dice it.
some n—– think they strong, but yea, they’re the weakest,
trying to prove their strength, give you a handshake and squeeze it.
yea, i get my hands dirty; my hands ain’t the cleanest.
if i shake your hand, i give you a handshake and mean it.
this mover of music here cause i’m here to make my thesis.
and only for my fans’ sake, i speak it with the bare face of jesus
on my neck, my pants there with creases,
authentic kicks, i never wear fake belices.
low top, uptowns, one of my pair of favorite sneakers,
i rock a pair of men’s like the landscape of egypt.
spit bars to the foreigners, let them translate to english,
naw, you and your mans ain’t the deepest,
some artists can sew dreams, everything hear they believe it,
so they stuck on the underground; they can’t break the cement.
when they get into show business, their answer’s deceiving,
hear themselves on the radio, so they feel they’re succeeding.
business before show, the airplay is needed,
first things come first, homie – you can’t break the sequence.
when you make a dope record, your fans can’t receive it.
took it right out of rotation; d—, it’s deleted.
when the whack records come, yea they increasing.
give them 90 spins a day; d—, they repeat it.
just so they can shine, them dudes, there, they competed;
back to the drawing-board, your plans got defeated.
[refrain]
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