Bme Click (Feat. The Bme Allstars)

Bme Click (Feat. The Bme Allstars)

Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz

Альбом: Kings Of Crunk
Длительность: 6:59
Год: 2002
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Текст песни

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Check this out (what's up?)
It's your motherfuckin' boy Lil Jon (that's right, nigga)
BME Click (yeah) representer right (yeah)
Now I-, I-, I just got to get some shit off my chest (let it out)
It's a lot fuck niggas been talking shit about me (fuck 'em)
But you know what? Pussy nigga I don't give a fuck (fuck 'em)
I'm a real nigga (right), real nigga handle his motherfuckin' business
Like my niggas 'bout to do right now

Whatever Bezel give you gon' be fi-yi-yi
Drop some acid in your drink, make you see tie-dye
I don't care if my girl just a leg and a thigh
She better split her thighs, let me hear her ayy-yay-ya
They say if you wait a little while, good things'll come
Drink come, get yours, but you blink and it's gone
Patient dude, I really can't wait that long
Been layin' fools down way before that 8ball song

I like that Benz, go ahead and run that, man
Boy you's a hoe, I think you Juwanna Man
It's not your boy from D12, it's ATL
One of the sickest dudes out, they like, "Ain't he well?"
Adamville ain't changed, it's still the same
They thought knockin' is the value that would stop the cane
Boss the plane, they livin' on fantasy island
Double move if a quake, made Atlanta an Island

This you boy Don P, AKA get away from me
I don't play, I just ride
Hide and go seek, nigga I don't hide (hide)
Never had a watch, so I never had the time (time)
Always had money, but I stayed on the grind (grind)
Girls give me head, so I got 'em in your minds (minds)
World's most wanted, I done did a million crimes (crimes)

Gotta be established, that I'm twice platinum (platinum)
Gimme some space, nigga (back, back some)
Ain't really smart, but ain't that dumb (dumb)
And your hoes seven (nigga you can keep it crunk)
I don't drop hits, nigga, I drop bombs (bombs)
Forget bein' a star, nigga I'm a fuckin' sun (sun)
Nigga lookin' at me talkin' 'bout it's all good (good)
Kings of crunk, nigga, comin' through your hood (blat)

See, I ain't come to play (say what?)
I came to spit bars inside cars, to let you niggas know where I stay
Two-eighty-five way (way), don't miss the byway (byway), on my highway (highway)
Eastside we on that Remy and that purple 'round my way
Okay boy, now let me spit, it's Black Boi
On this here (yeah), and boy (yeah), I'm real with this shit
I rip drawers off, take your balls off

'Cause you knew before you came in my room, girl, you was so sawed off
Was I wrote off? Oh no
I was strapped at it bitch
Before you close the door, now that's fo' sho'
We on that dro'
When you get up out my car, bitch, don't slam my door
Motherfucker

ATL is my home, and on my hip, keep that chrome
For the ones who talkin' shit, they better leave me alone
I ain't playin' no games, I'm just out for this fame
Gettin' this money is how I see it, gettin' blow from the Jane
Keep your distance, I'm 'bout to start movin' this chain
This hollow tip gon' be rainin' on the top of your brain
Hot like lava, I'm loadin' up this chrome problem solver
So watch your back, 'cause here I come, droppin' bodies like bombers

This Smith and Wessen, is gonna teach you haters a lesson
All you niggas keep on stressin', how we smoke up the essence
This herbal session, just keep a nigga full of confession
So while I'm diggin' in your purse, I keep that heat for protection
Now gimme your loot
This motherfucker gon' make me pimp shoot
This motherfucker think I'm plannin', think I'm roody like poo
You think I'm gravy, I told you boys don't play me for lame
This motherfucker didn't wanna listen, I took his ass out the game, bitch! (Bitch, bitch)

T-R-Y M-E pussy nigga
Lil L.A. off in this bitch, ready to bust your fuckin' shit, bitch
Rich nigga, if you wanna talk that bullshit
Go on hate, I ain't stunt you, runnin' up I'll get you split
From the bottom to the top
Top to bottom, you will go
Now hoe, I ain't the nigga, to be fuckin' with foe

Sick 'em, get 'em, split 'em, hit 'em
Tear that nigga ass up
I kill for fun mayne (mayne), and I ain't jokin' mayne (mayne)
What's up? Back up fuck nigga, who you takin to?
Yeah, scary ass nigga, we comin' for you
If you wanna talk shit, better be prepared
To live and die in the motherfuckin' ATL (yeah, come on)

Ain't nothin' like a good ass-whoopin' to set it off (yeah, yeah)
Come, how you want it bitch and get your pussy ass off?
Them little niggas ain't gon' fight, so I'ma shoot first (yeah)
Big nigga wanna tussle, put them hands to work (yeah, yeah)
Decatur born, Decatur bred, Decatur dead in the end (huh)
Hoe click, more bitch than a subsequent (yeah)
Charlie and Faith, wishin' your bitch ass made it
Crunker than a dog in the South-west gate (damn, damn, damn)

We got hoes shakin' ass, and they got it for sale (Eastside, Westside, Southside)
Real head, bust it in and put in work for the mail
What's that smell? Your dead ass in a hotel
No evidence because there's never guns in the chair (what? Yeah!)
Cramp in my leg from sittin' in the closet waitin' on you
Lil Jon, the ESB, finna put them hands on you
Got claims on your life, the hitman I be (uh, uh)
You want the job done, just holla at me, yeah (uh, uh)

I can't feel the ground the beneath me
One of these hoes is down to freak me (Southside)
Haters, they would love shoot rounds to leak me
Have my family sittin' 'round to weep me (yeah)
Life as a hustler, an everyday struggler, tryin' to double up (double up)
And aim for your jugular, if you ever try to trouble us, better knuckle up
The streets, they know what it is

They know what the fake, they know what the real
They go for the kill, do what you feel (uh)
Hop in the 'Lac, flash your grill (uh)
Show your gold, throw your bows
Stay on your toes and don't trust these hoes
Play your part, and do your thang
Always put money before the fame (before the fame)

Y'all niggas don't wanna see me
Runnin' 'round here hatin' on me
Wanna know what I do with my cheese?
Eighty-four Silverado Chevy
Now I can buy that nine-eleven
And I can get that Escalade

Bout to hit the corner, pop the trunk and let that thang spray
Reppin that GA, Decatur's where I stay
Nothin' but real niggas and bitches out here 'round my way (Eastside)
Lil Bo, I be that nigga (whoa), quick to pull a trigger
And put some lead in the head of a fuck nigga (ah, ah, ah)

Woke up this mornin', nigga
With a pump and my hand on the trigger
Had a dream last night, I was bein' hated on by a bunch of these fuck niggas
These niggas done made me slip now, into my alias now
Coup de grâce SWAT officers and all these haters and these niggas right now
Frankly, I'm hot and pissed
This shit is ludicrous
Same niggas you grew up with nigga

Be the same niggas get they wig split
So keep flexin' and talkin', and get your ass whipped
Motherfucker, you must not know who you fuckin' with
I'm DJ 64, that nigga XL
Big Sam sayin' this shit to let you know what's real
You bitch, bitch, hoe, hoe
Ass, ass, nigga, nigga

We ain't playin'
Money slangin'
Justifyin'
Gangsta ridin'
More rich
Pimp shit
I'm just sangin'
ATL ain't fuckin' playin'