Lirik Lagu Know The Rep - John Cena
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TIPS PENCARIAN LIRIK FAVORIT ANDA
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Tanpamu tiada berarti
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(feat. Bumpy Knuckles (Freddie Foxxx))
[Freddie Foxxx a.k.a. Bumpy Knuckles]Hahahaha...Y'all know the rep, yeah, listen
My name is Bumpy Knuckles, I write that fuckin flameAnd kill for the right price I got a buckin nameMy forty caliber too fresh, stuck in aimWe roll like 18 wheelers in the truckin gameI'm nice with mics there's nothin more I likethan to paralyze your left side and leave you all rightI be layin front of your crib with Tec-y all nightTryin to get them 9 millimeters loaded up tight, listenI'm like a Cadillac, I write a battle rapso smooth contest you'll be out of thatY'all know the beef is stewin, that Bumpy came to ruinYou may be signed but you don't know what the fuck you doinI make aight hot, I make dope rawAnd send you higher than a long Colt four-fourYou know the only rap pimp that kept a ho poorAnd slam a fool on his back and break the whole floor
[Chorus: Bumpy Knuckles]A yes yes y'all, and you don't stopWe keep on, once the cops are goneThis is real street spit you best be warnedTell your favorite MC the mic is onA yes yes y'all, and you don't stopWe keep on, once the cops are gone
[John Cena]Yeah, yeahIt's the J daddy, not Hov' or Jam MasterMy mic is correct, but y'all know the hands fasterSee you bitch rappers I'm attackin the pileY'all be cryin foul cause I'm hackin your styleI make sure you and your mans doneWhen I see y'all both drop, I'm the cat screamin And1You see me on the team dog you know the game's overStones on my wrist, and a chip on my shoulderSixteens cashin in on another hot beatGo cop me a drop with the butterscotch seatsAnd we better not meet, if we do you gon' see a changeMake sure you whole FACE gettin rearrangedWe rollin up in the blacked out truck dogIt's Freddie Foxxx, now you deal with Corrupt MobIt's gas on the fire, any time a track blazeSquad known to beef up the Heat, just like the Shaq trade
[Tha Trademarc]This my 9 to 5, this ain't no hobby catCopycat killers bite styles, my rhyme piles is heavyGive me a beat, man I'll body thatSpittin that heat street raps man they nod to thatWhat you smilin at? You R&B, man that's hardly rapYou lost the beat, man you bought a mapMatter fact, here's my next rap, borrow thatBeen off the street too long, I want my corner backYou ain't a player, you a armchair quarterbackYou ride the beat like side streets on a flatDon't play dumb, I know where you came fromYou only seen slugs buddy after the rain comeKeep it subtle, Trademarc got you bitchlike babies suckin tits talkin 'bout mami let's cuddleIt's gon' be what it's gon' be, you duck downA quiet cat with a violent rap, what now?
[Chorus]
[Freddie Foxxx a.k.a. Bumpy Knuckles]Hahahaha...Y'all know the rep, yeah, listen
My name is Bumpy Knuckles, I write that fuckin flameAnd kill for the right price I got a buckin nameMy forty caliber too fresh, stuck in aimWe roll like 18 wheelers in the truckin gameI'm nice with mics there's nothin more I likethan to paralyze your left side and leave you all rightI be layin front of your crib with Tec-y all nightTryin to get them 9 millimeters loaded up tight, listenI'm like a Cadillac, I write a battle rapso smooth contest you'll be out of thatY'all know the beef is stewin, that Bumpy came to ruinYou may be signed but you don't know what the fuck you doinI make aight hot, I make dope rawAnd send you higher than a long Colt four-fourYou know the only rap pimp that kept a ho poorAnd slam a fool on his back and break the whole floor
[Chorus: Bumpy Knuckles]A yes yes y'all, and you don't stopWe keep on, once the cops are goneThis is real street spit you best be warnedTell your favorite MC the mic is onA yes yes y'all, and you don't stopWe keep on, once the cops are gone
[John Cena]Yeah, yeahIt's the J daddy, not Hov' or Jam MasterMy mic is correct, but y'all know the hands fasterSee you bitch rappers I'm attackin the pileY'all be cryin foul cause I'm hackin your styleI make sure you and your mans doneWhen I see y'all both drop, I'm the cat screamin And1You see me on the team dog you know the game's overStones on my wrist, and a chip on my shoulderSixteens cashin in on another hot beatGo cop me a drop with the butterscotch seatsAnd we better not meet, if we do you gon' see a changeMake sure you whole FACE gettin rearrangedWe rollin up in the blacked out truck dogIt's Freddie Foxxx, now you deal with Corrupt MobIt's gas on the fire, any time a track blazeSquad known to beef up the Heat, just like the Shaq trade
[Tha Trademarc]This my 9 to 5, this ain't no hobby catCopycat killers bite styles, my rhyme piles is heavyGive me a beat, man I'll body thatSpittin that heat street raps man they nod to thatWhat you smilin at? You R&B, man that's hardly rapYou lost the beat, man you bought a mapMatter fact, here's my next rap, borrow thatBeen off the street too long, I want my corner backYou ain't a player, you a armchair quarterbackYou ride the beat like side streets on a flatDon't play dumb, I know where you came fromYou only seen slugs buddy after the rain comeKeep it subtle, Trademarc got you bitchlike babies suckin tits talkin 'bout mami let's cuddleIt's gon' be what it's gon' be, you duck downA quiet cat with a violent rap, what now?
[Chorus]
