lirik lagu lords of the underground - one day
– cough – youknahmsayin b i mean
motherf-ckers be talkin you know what i mean?
[da brat] talkin plenty sh-t
youknowhati’msayin? just sh-t talkin
[da brat] and don’t know a motherf-ckin thing
but we gon’ we gon’ gather all these n-gg-z from
chicago
[da brat] hehe da brat
knahmean?
[da brat] that’s right all them n-gg-z from jersey
yeah yeah yeah and we just gon’ do it
[da brat] yaknahmsayin?
[all together]
aiyyo, put your hands up, way in the sky
light up your lighters, flame on the fire (yeah!)
aiyyo, put your hands up, way in the sky
light up your lighters, flame on the fire
[doitall]
aiyyo i been on many stages of all sorts
banged in many hoopties on blocks of all sorts
ran to foreign ports, sippin on port
thinkin rap thoughts while i’m reppin for newark,
whoaaaaaah
down-fall never, i rhyme too clever
storm like the weathers, hip-hop for the pleasure
feel the texture, how does doitall lecture
you and whoever, the more, the better
l-o-r-d, back from n-w-k
the u-n-d-a make me bounce this way
why you say – here me from chi to nj
i swear one day it’s gon’ all come your way, one day
chorus: da brat (repeat 4x)
one day, that’s when it’s gon’ come
for all you muh’f-ckers, tell me where you gon’ run to
[mr. funke]
check it
ashes to ashes, and dust to dust
blackin out on anybody think they f-ckin with us
we just, live the life of billboards and mic cords
straight buyin sh-t you can’t afford (hah) so put it
down
and stop touchin it, you wanna step to us, see you
rushin it
watch your head, i’ll be bustin it, what’s this?
who you think you talkin to – you think we slippin?
yo brat, stick the clip in, these n-gg-z is trippin
bustin shots like pimpin (pimpin) hit you in your hip
and (hip and)
take your bills like clinton (clinton) n-gg- i ain’t
bullsh-ttin
you must be lost – thinkin jersey n-gg-z is soft
i should whip out on your n-gg-z – make you take your
rings off
now take your f-ckin jeans off, for thinkin that we
soft
before i squeeze off, make you n-gg- ease off
cause me gettin burnt or hurt, won’t be tolerate
funk bizzy put a foot to your -ss, you’re constipated
– what?
chorus
[da brat]
dearly beloved, we gathered here today to bust
me and the lords been in the lab, guaranteed to f-ck
it up – what?
if you got a problem with jersey or chicago
the revolver’ll go pop and the weaves’ll drop
rhyme-diesel heffer in it, don’t stop, the glock
c-cked
ready to penetrate with every one of my sixteen shots
don’t be deceived by the pigtails, the b-tter colored
ma
smothered in cheese, the dopest b-tch you’ve heard
thus far
when in need, of an incredible high, you can flow
with the l-o-t-u-g and i, as we get lifted
til we die, all this stuff is weight
make the money to buy the bank and the benz and the
vacation
(sheeyit) take time to kick it with n-gg-z in jersey
you weren’t worthy and your day is comin
motherf-cker, you better keep runnin (hahahah)
and that’s all fact and no lie, one day got your name
on it
be ready to die (b-tch, motherf-cker!)
chorus 2x
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