Primo! Haaaaah
Come on, hah!
[Verse 1: Freddie Foxxx]
Somebody better call security it's 'bout to be on
I'm in the streets, midnight, 'bout to bust 'til dawn
n***as are dead wrong, if they think I'm soft in my song
You wanna die? Hah, I can help your coffin me on
I'm the reason that some rap n***az, may spit a name
I'm the reason that some n***az, still in the game
I'm the reason that rock died, some proclaim
rich underground street n***a, Bumpy came
They wonderin, how the hell he just won't stop and
They wonderin, how this n***a stays so hot
Well it's a combination of five things I live by
I don't speak to none of these bitc -a** n***as, just give eye
Always aim for the sky, unless I'm aiming at an A&R from the majors
then I aim for the eye, and you never seen me cry
These emotional a** industry rap motherf**ers
n***a just push double Y
And I always spit fly, and never be afraid
'Cause Bumpy ain't leavin, 'til Bumpy get paid
You n***as is like little AIDS
infecting the sound that the real n***az started
So we keep it underground, yeah
[Chorus] [2x]
The Lah, lah, lah
Got me clouded brains in motion
The Lah, lah, lah
Got me causing mad commotion
The Lah, lah, lah
Hit me like a locomotion (Feel me)
The Lah, lah, lah
Smokin, smokin, smokin
[Verse 2: Freddie Foxxx]
n***az know I ain't play around when it comes to the rhyme to the sound
From the sky to the ground, I gun your a** down, like I'm aged rap round
I got a little game for the kiddies and I call it "Ain't that clown!"
It's Bumpy Knux, hotter than grits on Al Green
Gonna make Allen Iverson stick with his team
Basketball was your dream, so live ya other life
Don't go broke tryna flow, be you ain't that nice
What's with these basketball n***as, I'm screamin' double dribble
How you nine foot tall, and rhymin just a little?
I police the underground, and I'm thug appointed
Got a problem with that speech get your mug annointed
By reverend glock, n***as got they' game all twisted
It's a lot of n***az I'ma bring it too and it's listed
I hope he try to stand up and show me you live
That makes my dick hard, and I get all sweaty inside
'Cause I know this little n***a wanna prove he ain't a s**er
But he f**ing with a bad motherf**er, it's Bumpy Knux
[Chorus] [2x]
[Verse 3: Freddie Foxxx]
The magazines - I like to meet my reviewer
Take his a** to the sewer, and show him what it's like
Tryna come up on this mic, how to struggle, how to fight
It's like tryna find an a** on a Chinese woman
In the dark, black night I got the double Tech
As if I was in the cigarette smoke
and skinny white women they play my record
I been +Hot+ since +97+, way before that
Now I come back, and n***az still b**hin
You can't even snatch a chain no more, n***az snitchin
A lot of n***az is just pots in the kitchen like congresman Wrangle
Mister Bo Jangle with f**ed up ankles
The blacks start suffer while the white start spangled
Banner and we don't play on MTV
The f**in record company is ownin all the MP3
And the bootleg factory, I got n***az saying "Bumpy too black for me!"
It's the truth n***a, I see, but you blinded by glitter
And you got a little cheddar what's made your p**y game better
While you need mic nice lessons nursery rhymin
When all a n***a want is a car and a hurt me diamond
He'll do anything for anybody
And s** a dick like he MC Lewinsky
I'm the n***a that you can't see, don't ever get it f**ed up
All you s**a a** n***az will get Bump knucked up
[Chorus] [2x]