Will Tell - Tango and Cash lyrics

[Hook: Pumpkinhead] Hit the floor, keep moving (What?) Bump this in your ride—it's that jeep music (Oh aight) All my thugs in the club, smoke your weed to it You paid for that sh**? n***a, we boost it (Tango and cash) Brooklyn gon' run through it (BK) You know we get down when it come to it (No doubt) All my real shorties come thug to it (Come on, come on) So when we spit rounds, you better run, stupid (Tango and cash) [Verse 1: Pumpkinhead] I got a lot to do and little time to do it Those who try to stop me'll swimming in they body fluids It's BK, b**h. Brooklyn Ac' is the unit Got no love—for chumps, I'll rip the wings off of cupid Fully strapped bully raps push your hoodie back You rookie cats. Try to f** with me, get your cookie cracked React. I'll swim a hundred laps around the Hudson, busting—bust your gats You falling off but, this time, you ain't coming back I spit four hundred years until my lungs collapse I'll spit ‘til my mouth is dry and my tongue is black Break [you calm?] like a running back Brooklyn n***as be thugging tracks—you see a hundred flags from one attack [Hook: Pumpkinhead] Hit the floor, keep moving (What?) Bump this in your ride—it's that jeep music (Oh aight) All my thugs in the club, smoke your weed to it You paid for that sh**? n***a, we boost it (Tango and cash) Brooklyn gon' run through it (BK) You know we get down when it come to it (No doubt) All my real shorties come thug to it (Come on, come on) So when we spit rounds, you better run, stupid (Tango and cash) [Verse 2: Pumpkinhead] Me and Will, we like tango and cash ‘Cause we the type of n***as that make angels get mad I'm hanging your staff on flagposts You a tadpole, little n***a A little liquor got you feeling bigger But you put on pause My guns is like menopause, bloody your drawers, blood on the door Breaking your jaw, put your face through the floor. We taking it all Titles and plaques. You bite me, I'm biting you back Homicidal raps make the Bible crack Blow up vital stats ‘til the line is flat Take your skullcap and fly it back My n***as get high on this track All my b**hes in the club, run your thighs to this track All y'all n***as that be hating gonna die to this track I'll spit thirty G's on a track, the price of a Ac' Blunted Soldiers for life—ain't nothing f**ing with that And that's more than real, n***a—just look at my tat [Hook: Pumpkinhead] Hit the floor, keep moving (What?) Bump this in your ride—it's that jeep music (Oh aight) All my thugs in the club, smoke your weed to it You paid for that sh**? n***a, we boost it (Tango and cash) Brooklyn gon' run through it (BK) You know we get down when it come to it (No doubt) All my real shorties come thug to it (Come on, come on) So when we spit rounds, you better run, stupid (Tango and cash) [Outro: Pumpkinhead] Yeah. Pumpkinhead, Will Tell. Another one. We adding on and we ain't stopping, you heard? Yeah. We out like that. O.B.S., Brooklyn Ac'