lirik lagu smif n wessun – sound bwoy bureill
verse one:
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 i.d. 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 cant tess the champion sound/you gettin bucked down/
recognize the boot camp click/outta bucktown/
gun thirsty little b-st-rd/always blasted/
from the sess of chocolate/from my d-ck 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 d-ck rida/
lick a shot punani/not gun fire/
now everybody wanna be dongongon/
all around new york n-gg-s be talkin/but we be stalkin/
in the dark when the gun starts buckin/
but in the day/be wary of where you be walkin/
chorus
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!
verse two:
me naw s-x/me ruff like the wicked you fe me/
the motherf-cker that be buggin over truth you see/
original/criminal/runin town/crime pays/
thats when i practised/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/
c-mmin 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 daily crime/
warriors/conquerors/the man before ya/
mr. ripper/a.k.a. the enemy killa/
my man wit the weed/is my man in deed/
and all you sucky-ducky n-gg-s 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/’cause wee de good crew
leave!
verse three:
laud!/some bwoy wan get dead tonite duke/
as i retrieve the 2-5 from my timboots/
target pon sight/trick up and c-ck/
adjust your pupils to see a dead bwoy walk/
nuff p-ssyhole gwan die dis year/
here comes the bootcamp/slide it to the rear/starang c-mmin like a hurricane lickin shots/
more untouchable/than n-gg-s wit de chicken pox/
so/emcees get lifted when i’m spliffted/
n-gg- guard ya grill/cause louisville packs the biscut/
in the session/smif n wessun/o-g’s see/gun clapper number 1/
wit my n-gg- 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 thats goin around/and goin on/
and gwan like a clown/but i’m tellin you..clean up your act/
and come to de livestock ’cause you a deadstock from mornin and now is evenin/its time fe tings to change.
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