- 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...
-
|
