Freddie Foxxx/Bumpy Knuckles - Bumpy Bring It Home (feat. M.O.P.) lyrics

(feat. M.O.P.) Ayo, turn the, turn the music up some more In the headphones for me Check it out [c'mon!] You ready, it's Bumpy Knuckles baby Sendin this out to my n***as All them hardcore street corner, wilders Ha, ha, Freddie Foxxx baby That's right, Diamond D baby [Verse 1] Whoever thought that I'd be Mr. lyrical flows nice Like sunsets on the Rio Grande Grantin after sisters checkin out they can can My lyrical ability keeps them real n***as That listen to hip hop feelin me I keep it underground, sound's a buck China Even in Japan they know, I'm the ultimate Spit at me verse, like it's my last one Slow ones, fast ones, I blast past the fake a** ones You see, I don't think no n***a's nicer than me I'm not conceited, that's how I read it, these n***as heated I dissect your verses like science cla** frogs I see your rap records is swine, like hogs Now cipher, that's like turnin down Janet for Michelle Pfeiffer See Freddie Foxxx ain't wit that My sh** is hotter than cayenne pepper, the mic wrecker The lethal weapon, I keep you high steppin It's not my fault that n***as listen to me And wanna rob sh**, cuz I do my motherf**in job kid If you a thug then you recognize what you see before you Eyes and ears said Freddie Foxxx is here I been waitin it, doin it, sayin it Rollin by my motherf**in self with my burner co*ked slayin it And I ain't seen nothing that could make me believe There's a n***a rappin liver than me, you feel me [HOOK 2X: Billy Danze] You in a cla** of your own, Bumpy's in the zone Leave Bumpy alone! Bumpy get it on Bumpy spit chrome, Bumpy hold a throne Now, Bumpy bring it home! [Verse 2] I wear Rolex watches and alligator shoes Where n***as thought devil jeans was the big news I had fifty miles on my brand new Benz in '89 When you wanted me to critique your rhyme It just was all right n***as brought rappers to me, for approval Now I give you sixteen bars, for removal I punch you in your temple make you stagger like Yeltsin Over hand right to the brain is what you felt son Then I take off my belt son Show you what a whippin is, what a true real mic rippin is You fake n***as can't make it hard for real n***as cuz There's no defense for the truth so what the deal n***a No matter who tell it, real n***as always prevail Just like a fake n***a always fail n***as livin in a fairy tale, until they get beef Then he want peace, b**h, you just a rap p**y You comin just a lyrical lunatic I make it blacker than midnight at 12 O'Clock noon and sh** I keep rollin like the black Navi with them Micky Thompsons Halogen lights, I keep my flow tight The new Bumpy sh** is like the new Jordans when they come out Got emcees rappin wit they gun out Memorize lyrics and I spit 'em to the needy Send love to my n***a Tweety, and can you feel me [HOOK] [Verse 3] I treat 'em like what stick up kids is to dark alleys What's Slick Rick is to Bally's What played out NY n***as is to Cali Runnin from the ill sh** I do what record labels don't like, the real sh** Money is energy, I'm hyped up Step on stage with that bullsh**, get hair wiped up I be up in your crib, with my two black sigs in your ribs Takin everything you got to give The black Robin Hood I rock for n***as that can't afford Rolies Ride around and in tagged up stolies I keep the truth like the Holy Qu'ran Here's a game plan, ambush, best attack, hit off my man I make you n***as listen to some lyrical sh** Some miracle sh**, some empirical sh** Now I'm in flipmode, I got my gun in your brain And make you run you ch ch ch cha ch ch ch cha chain Bumpy plays no games, it's all real here Can't get my gun in the club, I keep it real near I'm harder than a bulletproof vest wrapped around a steel pole Six shots all through your body like real soul James Brown or the Meters I'm gunnin for you no talent rap style eaters When Diamond D blessed me I had to come rugged Or unplug it, only true thugs can f** sh** [HOOK]