Lyrics:
up the album 9 3 7 queued Up!
By Quranic The MC
9 3 7 queued up bitch!
album went six thousand on niggas
In Kansas City alone, we packed the dome with Mike and Liddy alone
In the west side, Lee Jone, Milly Mal, I left you
made 'for you by you'
Every hip-hop nigga listen and wishing he had your style
To go against you if you rip him and pass him by (yeah)
A mastermind is
at the Breakfastclub
I’m not in it but if I hit the trap they gone show me love
We are multi-talented and nothing you can learn to us
If it ain’t about my money of my
failed
Called you by surprise
Now the Devil in your eyes
Devil in your pie, see a coochee
Hit the broad
Stupid that you feelin' to live
In the crack
Indeed truly we are the mighty mighty BDP posse
This is our fourth album and we're still not takin' no shorts
Yeah, ha hah!
On the wheels
conversation when I'm lookin' up
Be on the look out for that album when it drop from clouds
Mesmerized by the twinkle in the eye of a child of God
Mesmerized
that you do
Because stupid is how everybody sounded
Nigga you think you know me, but only if you knew me
Homie, you would leave me by my lonely
I'm
copper
You cross my path I have
You hangin from a helicopter
Step in my world but I
Ain't down with hittin Blondie
Livin with zombies got me starvin hungry
Daylight, on sight
Night time, night night
Knocked out, bed time
Bad dreams, night light
Phone screen, shine bright
Gram creep, hit like
Touch
Smoove wit it you’ll think that im givin out a pitch
Finna drop this album they gone say its a hit
But it ion make it soon then i might as well quit bitch
when it all falls
Who'll be the one to carry us?
Gettin' closer to the end by each step
They say all the real niggas dead
And gone but we left
Dawg, I
Publishing/Showbilly Music
New lyrics by Cledus T. Judd (I stopped here due to the album details stopped here...but I knew Cledus would have been listed in there...so I
Rap ain't nothin' but cash, money, bitches, foreign cars and trees
Cristal by the cases, bad bitches by the flocks
I know I promised my niggas I'd
like centipedes
I peep they're style, I got an eagle for their evil and a team of five deadly venoms, the land is ran by drunken masters
The task is
lil' ol' alcoholic-ass nigga
[Hamm]
Well, you know I got to have it, my brother, ain't nothing changed
You want to hit it?
[Quik]
Yeah, what's
black as the strap I'm using to hit the rival
Last album was great but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without
Last song on the album, lay down
Let me hit you with the talcum
This is add on, this just tax
Lay back
Let me hit you with the jazzhands
I'm
What if a brick was only just a misdemeanor?
What if Manhattan was hit by Hurricane Katrina?
What if a black man was the one controlling Fema?
What if
Verse 1
-------
Some of the busiest rhymes ever made by man
Are goin' into this mic, written by this hand
Are comin' out of this mouth, made by this
hard live by that motto
All them haters they follow
Hit that bitch once I got options
Why you talking
Gawking
Got this album dropping
While he flopping
moving like the sigma hog album still droppin off haaaaaaaa
Malcontent November 5th and nah bitch the beats wasn't made by the Alchemist (naaaah)
I don't
Little niggas want to rap and think that shit sweet
Push his first album and he died the same week
Put that water on the dirt turn that shit to mud
I
[Chorus 1]
pull up in a brand new
shawty hit my line but she old news
i dont waste time you know what it do
im up by 6am
im up by 6am
up by 6am
up by 6am
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