Freddie Foxxx/Bumpy Knuckles - Keith N Bumpy lyrics

[Kool Keith] See.. you play around too f**in much (How many people you got hurt?) You ain't learned your lesson yet (You ain't learned your f**in lesson) You still playin and f**in around That's all you doin, you playin f**in around Youse a little b**h.. Youse a b**h-a** n***a, smack your f**in skullies off You n***as ain't learned a f**in lesson yet? Count your blessing yet, publicity got you mixed up And Keith's f**ed your whole million dollar aura Clean cut or thugged out, I don't give a f** n***as with that champagne sh** f**in with me, you'll earn a job in the cleaners Givin motherf**ers a permanent crease We don't do Entertainment Tonight, Rosie O'Donn-ell Piss on n***as like you and take your video models Straight to Church's Chicken, and f**in McDonald's f** all you glamourized f*ggot n***as Y'all on some real hardcore, maggot n***as Catch you in the gridlock in New York City traffic Hit you in the face with a rock tied up in a f**in sock Tell the cops, I'll chase you with a mac-10 Follow your Range Rover with stockin caps For seventy-eight more f**in blocks Watch ambulances and paramedics take off your paragon down Remove your f**in mop; take your body pieces In a f**ed up van to a Mexican chop shop f** a b**h-a** bodyguard, bunch of n***as squealin Cancel your important meetings, we can do this Broad daylight, just me and you in a f**in Jamaican restertaunt "Who da f** ya tink you are mon, what ya f**in doin? You don't know the fu*k I am" - load three four five clips f**in magazines, I'll show you the f**in bomb Ya bloodclot, catch you n***as in Quadrasonic or Sony Platinum Sounds, who is it Bill? Who's f**in around with Crazy Tony? All that bullsh**, walkin around with - hard packs You motherf**ers carryin backpacks That's right, with your hooded parkas You motherf**ers s** dick and you're phony [Repeat 4X] Y'all do y'all sh** in the studio We bring our sh** to your face! ['Bumpy'] My mental is sinister, I run sh** like a prime minister You still breathin motherf**er? But now it's time to finish ya Blood sport, I heard you on life support But I'mma make sure that you don't take the witness stand in court Afternoon, I'mma creep up in your room, past the goon 'fore you (??) ba-boom, and I'm sendin yo' a** to the moon Another motherf**er bite the dust from the lust To live plush, and he died quick - from the rush Now I'm Southbound, f** the 6, take the Greyhound Any cat cross the line can't hide it's goin down I got connects with tecs and white boats and jets Think I'm playin motherf**er? Let me know who next Silence and not loud, pick you off in the crowd Now your shorty growin up in the world as a fatherless child Everybody choose the f**in way that they wanna play Just remember one f**in day that that a** gotta pay Cause f**in with my gravy is like rapin my little baby And you still wouldn't be safe if you joined the f**in navy You must be crazy, thinkin yo' a** can get Swayze But the only f**in thing you gon' be doin is pushin up daisies And it won't faze me, cause real gangsters raised me Ghetto diamonds praised me and thugs slug just craze me I know it sounds strange, but it's part of the game I control b**hes brains, when they s**in on my sugar cane My fame came before money you f**in dummy b**hes callin me 'Bumpy' while my dick is in they tummy But if you cross the line, you won't be able to find They motherf**in head, they limbs or they spine So all you b**h motherf**ers better respect mine If you plan on bein here to see the f**in sunshine (BLAOW!) BLAOW! With one in your spine Keith N 'Bumpy', put one in your spine