- Lyrics
- Album list
Smif N Wessun( Smif-N-Wessun )
-
Sound Bwoy Bureill
Verse one:
Boom bye bye/in a botty bwoy head The shottie fly now/the botty ly like dead 2 shots dead to him chin/enemy a friend Fake the funk/i put the junk to an end Now who da rude bwoy/wan come tess dogg I find his family/and i.d. em in da morgue I bet you never thought i bust led To prize/i'm a fortified blunt head just like a dread
You cant tess the champion sound/you gettin bucked down Recognize the boot camp click/in a de bucktown Gun thirsty little bastard/always blasted From the sess of chocolate/from my dick gastin You say you number one wicked selecta I say you punani/and i wetcha Keep the bull/before i pull this here trigga Cause you don't wanna tess me/when i'm tipsy off the liquor Like a punk they call mcgirt/got his feelings hurt Showed his true colors/had to yank up his skirt Now he's in misery/tryin to cop a plea Led to his head/from gun clapper number 3 See/lick off a shot you no dick rida Lick a shot punani/not gun fire
Now everybody wanna be dongongon All around new york niggas be talkin/but we be stalkin In the docks when the gun starts buckin But in the day/be wary of where you be walkin
Chorus Don't...don't....don't you ever mention bout you wan Tess the champion sound Leave it to de people that can you know that can When people see them a ball fa Leave!
Verse two:
Me naw sex/me ruff like the wicked you fe me The motherfucker that be buggin over truth you see Original/criminal/run in town/crime pays Thats when i practised/your act if/you wan get blasted By my nine shot/come around my block/pon the night spot In the pine box/murderah...botty bwoy killa/golden power filla Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com We bout to get illa
Sound bwoy/ya got nuff reason to worry Cummin wit my troops/we about to bury Betta pack ya dubs and move in a hurry/ease off sean Lookin at my pager/it's about that time To load up the 9/and do my derelict crime Warriors/conquerors/the man before ya Mr. ripper/a.k.a. the enemy killa My man wit the weed/is my man in deed And all you sucky-ducky niggas catch nots wit speed
Talkin bout you have sound/ah my sound you wan tess You neva know/that when it comes to championship Is we dat have de management And carry mack/use you for good use/cuz wee de good crew Leave!
Verse three:
Laud!/some bwoy wan get dead tonite duke As i retrieve the 2-5 from my timboots Target pon sight/trick up and cock Adjust your pupils to see a dead bwoy walk Nuff pussyhole gwan die dis year Here comes the bootcamp/slide it to the rear Its the rain cummin like a hurricane lickin shots More untouchable/than niggas wit de chicken pox So/emcees get lifted when i'm spliffted Nigga guard ya grill/cause louisville packs the biscut In the session/smif n wessun/o-g's see/gun clapper number 1 Wit my nigga d-o-g....
We bring the realness/feel this/boom it's black moon reveal This We come to let you know/what the deal is Straight up we serve justice/so if you can't be trusted May you return where the dust is..
There is many sound thats goin around/and goin on And gwan like a clown/but i'm tellin you..clean up your act And come to de livestock cuz you a deadstock from mornin to de Evenin/now everthing changed...
-
|