Sound Bwoy Bureill

Lyrics

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 ID '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 can't 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'
 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
 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
 That's when I practiced 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, 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, AKA, 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
 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
 It's 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 biscuit
 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 that's 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 everything changed
 
 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 ID '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 can't 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'
 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
 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
 That's when I practiced 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, 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, AKA, 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
 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
 It's 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 biscuit
 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 that's 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 everything changed
 
 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 ID '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 can't 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'
 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
 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
 That's when I practiced 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, 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, AKA, 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
 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
 It's 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 biscuit
 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 that's 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 everything changed
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:19
Key
9
Tempo
174 BPM

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