|
Kam - Bang Bang lyrics
f/ Mystic [Kam] Check I represent the left, with a death toll high But I ride with the side called the F.O.I. Where do or die is the code, banged out is the mode Now everyone throw up your guns and unload I'm bound to have your whole town sewed, niggaz drinkin and gettin blowed to the sound layin tracks down like the underground railroad Can't no jail hold me, or no crackers control me I shed tears for dead homies (and what) and fears Allah only So haters don't want me to hit, tryin to pitch ball four Makin peace with the beast but with me, bitch it's all war I'm hardcore, hardline, hard edge on hard times Here rap the records determined to get our shine Turnin water to wine, healin the deaf dumb and blind With a stone backbone, I join your own to your own kind So pass the clip as I mash the whip, with the master grip Just waitin for your ass to slip and I bang bang [Chorus: Mystic] Bang bang.. bang, bang, bang Bang bang bi-dang, bang bang Bang, bang, bang Bang bang bi-dang, bang bang Bang, bang, bang Bang bang bi-dang, bang bang Bang, bang, bang Bang bang bi-dang, bang.. [Kam] Chitty chitty bang bang, a gritty city gang thang We maintain, rap jack and slang 'caine and brang pain, think you can hang you best be sure Cause the West is where I'm from so come test me now [Mystic] Way-oyyyyyy, way-oy-oy-oy-oy Way-oyyyyyy, way-oy-oy-oy-oy [Kam] Ring the alarm, code red, Arm Leg Leg Arm Head Soldiers on the move, show and prove, go out and get the dead and spit the lead, let's quit this black and brown bloodshed And get this bread, lay these crackers down in a mudbed Like Spud Webb I go to war with the giants Cause they just pawns in the game but I'm a lord of the science I gets nuff respect, while other niggaz is suspect Ass-kickin cash get them pretty boys slash ruffnecks [Chorus] [Kam] So cocks the hammer back and rack the pump Since the police hate me unlock the safety just in case we have to dump I'm ready for shit to jump, my niggaz carryin mags Like "Fuck these United Snakes and they American fags" Uncle Tom's askin Uncle Sam, "Why can't we bond?" But nigga Kam don't give a damn about no Yankee mon Stars and stripes I earn 'em, blow a whole through they sternum See my arrangement with the Lord is I return 'em, he burn 'em But I don't claim to be no saint, solely because I ain't holy But you just got be-lieeeve, foley Everybody on the block knows, just how it go I got flows, rock shows, clock dough and knock hoes down like a pimp on the track, just mackin Out for my dollars pop your collars holla back - what's crackin? Shit it's your world I'm just a squirrel tryin to find a nut Catch me at the club, in the cut, watchin the girls, wind it up [Chorus] |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Christmas Fantasy by Anita Baker |
 Vision Valley by The Vines |
 Version by Mark Ronson |
 The Massacre by 50 Cent |
 Lost Highway by Bon Jovi |
