Boom Bashin'

Back and forth, forth and back
We got the shit that is crazy fat
For a weight loss system
You got balls? Then I'ma kick 'em

Fuck through ya cranium
Slammin' punks like Wrestlemania

Here comes the boom, with the hip hop bash as I smash and crash
How many gangsta rappers are gonna last?
Not one, they got done, I had fun
Doin' em and screwin' em and booin' em and chewin' em

I'm slick and quick, up my sleeve is a trick
(Hey!) So what, I use Funky Drummer, suck my dick
I'm still thick, with murderous beats and heavy kick
And I'm sick of the so-called shots ya gonna lick

I slam and I slam and I slam, did I mention that I slam?
Don't eat spinach but I am what I am
Death-defyin' like a circus, I work this
Mic, ya can't jerk this, off-beat on purpose

I never smoke dope (what?), I don't carry a nine (what?)
I ain't no hustler, with bitches on my mind (damn)
Gangstas are swimmin' in the water but comin' up shorter
I oughta boom, bash and slaughta

I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room)
Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room)

Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room)
Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (word to the motherfuckin' boom!)

Break it down baby, b-b-break it down baby
B-b-break it down baby, b-b-break it down
I'ma break it down – and I do mean down, yo way down
So far down-down the devil gonna call it underground

Niggas better know the fuckin' score
'Cause I'm raw like Eddie – and like confetti, they get tore
Up, from the floor – up, there's no time
And my spits gettin' sprayed in ya face as I rhyme

So run, run, run ya better head for the hills
Get ya gun, gun, gun and ya cyanide pills
Get the rope for ya neck and the razor for ya wrists
'Cause I'm pissed and it's suicide to battle this

Ummm – highly explosive material
Grand imperial, pour me on cereal
'Cause I flow from the belly of a cow
Wipe ya brow, how ya like me now?

I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room!)
Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room!)

Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room!)
Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (word to the motherfuckin' boom!)

You can get with this – or you can get with that
But ya can't get wit' the man with the mad snap hat
I take 'em out with one blow to the cerebellum
And tell 'em, my jam's so funky that you can smell 'em

With 26 styles I enter, I bend the
Rapper like a pole, yo, I'm cold like winter
Rhyme for rhyme, head to head with one go
I come from Crooklyn, it's wild like a jungle

Yeah, ya might get a cap jack, ya act mack
I carry a can of flat black in my napsack
Lookin' for a wall to tag up, I dag up
And rag up a nigga, yo digga, raise the flag up

I click-click my heels and good is how it feels
There's no place like home and chrome – on ya wheels
Make it through the project, dance if I choose to
Hope I didn't lose you, I bruise you, I cruise through

The neighborhood – in a Chevrolet Impala
Drop to the ground and makin' the girls holla
Rollin', rollin', rollin', I'm rollin'
"Sorry officer, the car ain't stolen"

I really don't care what ya thought of me
I oughta be – far from orderly

In my fashion, I boom and I bash

I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room!)
Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room!)

Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (we got the gangsta shit for the room!)
Hey, I boom and I bash and I bash and I boom
Check it (word to the motherfuckin' boom!)



Credits
Writer(s): Duval A. Clear, Sean Mcfadden
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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