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lirik lagu dj bazooka joe - thug melody (dj bazooka joe remix)

[intro: c-rayz walz]
c-rayz walz. “thug melody.” musical gats like that

[verse 1: c-rayz walz]
iced-out alien truck, thug groovyhead
get his breath—dutch fingertip, rap newlywed
camouflage dark trademark. nine vehicles park
new darts extra sharp like cheddar
cracker barrel apparel, aeropostale, semi-hostile
brown vapor through the nostril—not brew
spit heavenly, sell seven seas
beat lebanese. acting shady ‘cause i live around trees
surround sound speed through town—my own expedition
like matthew henson in a tahoe. dino bravo
she’s like “nacho-salsa birthday!”
hot shit—tongue burning, bite lava lyrics
write flame to inspire earning
read green books for higher learning
street sunday, ghetto harmony, thug sermon
double kick return off the [?] blessing—the best lessons
sway sideburns. admiral emperor. jade monkey
play the life, pick up your wife—my pay funky
chick yelling “dump me!”
fly out the country twice b-mpy
christ head reflect the light—still shining
we don’t want ryan crying skylining
turtleneck made from iron protect my word
on the verge of the end, i see kids flying

[hook: c-rayz walz] (x2)
crush grape drinks by the lake
be allergic to it if it ain’t big face
black top. every option in a denali. bulgari rich chick
heavy, big, betting, sweating out minx (“thug melody”)

[verse 2: c-rayz walz]
the most truth—no lie. who’s beating my -ss?
that’s my word—action to the third-power cl-ss
i’m past -ss, transform to vapor m-ss
blended with smoke and flowers from jamaican labs
shine splendid. when you water earth, fire sun creation
liberation through purification. the most rancid
new york—this ain’t kansas
clicking heels together three times—no answers
you ain’t a hero—you just got pickle breath
spitting fresh make you vibrate—ripple effect
like kareem in la, skyhooking the track
the streets is watching. so?!? what the fuck you looking at?!?
at the top of the game like the scoreboard
run in the lane like drunk drivers who ignore laws
so when there’s drama, you think i’mma worry? (uh uh)
i stay puffed out like [?] commissary

[interlude: sample from the boondock saints (1999)]
connor: now you will receive us
murphy: we do not ask for your poor or your hungry
connor: we do not want your tired and sick
murphy: it is your corrupt we claim
connor: it is your evil that will be sought by us
connor: …and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost
murphy: there are varying degrees of evil. we urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over

[verse 3: c-rayz walz]
(thug melody) i stand still and score—my whole style’s a free throw
beef equals shots through your peephole
my golden state warrior-style—hype details
now i’m getting love in new york just like sprewell
you can’t dribble the rock. stop. how you gonna ball?
i get bubbly confused with glock—pop shots at y’all
streets is cold, so i c-ck the flame
get, get, getting red, man, like doc’s the name
i smoke hennessey, drunk dutches—so smooth
i could play hopscotch on crutches
lines switch up like a moody c-ke addict
what now? duck down
i buck styles for your thug foul
supersonic daytona place. hate and drop .38
invincible mind state—go gary
godbody—prolly like fab five, freddy, and wild style
my art gallery’s mega foul (now)
you wanna be a huxtable and live comfortably?
get your whole block sprayed (“what’s up?”) just for saying “what’s up?” to me (so what’s up?)
humbly, i got all styles of music (huh)
irresponsible—on stage, i just lose it

[outro: c-rayz walz]
crush grape drinks by the lake. black top. every option in a denali. big, betting, sweating out minx

- lirik lagu dj bazooka joe

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