Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bang Time , by - M.O.P.. Release date: 24.08.2009
Song language: English
Bang Time |
| To the East my brother like a X-Clan member |
| SISSY! |
| Lil' Fame is a Marxmen |
| I’m the son of Sonny Carson |
| I wash dirty cats through hood laundromats, where they lost at |
| Go home or go hard yeah this is real life warrior shit |
| These other rap dudes corny as shit |
| What’chall know about sidewalks with bloodstains, coroner shit |
| +Cold as Ice+ on some Foreigner shit |
| Raised on the dark side, baptized in dirty water |
| The murder Marx side, dark skies to early mornings |
| What’s a nickel bag to a profit/prophet, graze hit 'em right out |
| Great day to do it again, same as the night out |
| This is the good, the bad and the ugly |
| 'Round here we keeps it thuggy thuggy |
| Yeah and it’s Brooklyn’s, finest, unfaded, Brownsvillians |
| We’ll shoot this bitch up like cowboys and indians |
| D-Block! |
| Yeah, bang time |
| 45'll hit 'em and leave 'em with hang time |
| Raised on his ass like the glass of a line |
| Raw like cocaine line, nigga I ain’t lyin |
| Your man’s frame is dyin from the flame of the iron |
| Walkin him, walk with him, now better kneel with him |
| Try to be real with him, I’m so deep in it |
| That if you try to stand up his fuckin guts gon' spill on him |
| Play with’cha kids, or a deck of cards |
| Me I go extra hard, still tryin to get it, like I’m Escobar |
| Only question I ask is cash or a check involved |
| Put me on my P’s and Q’s, let me know if death’s involved |
| Like I give a shit, ignorant nigga |
| Yeah I pull the trigger quick, thought you woulda figured this |
| You want to know why the movement is rigorous |
| S.P. the Ghost, on some Y.O. |
| killer shit, nigga… Bang time |
| Yo, somewhere in (BROOKLYN) is where you’ll find this nigga, in my comfort zone |
| Semi circled by the grimiest niggaz (c'mon!) |
| Walk with me, spread chalk with me sod |
| In the field where the real niggaz are born (ghetto) |
| There’s no surgeons here, we don’t cut up body parts |
| We blast and leave yo' ass wherever it start |
| A half a block from the precinct, the homies are beyond thuggin and buggin |
| My whole borough’s in judgment indecent |
| The thoroughest dimepieces straight out of action flicks |
| (Gangsta bitch!) Angela Jolie this |
| Notion, forward motion, do what you gotta do |
| To get what you gotta get to get your shit rollin |
| And keep closin, by any means |
| The 50 cal the 40 or the 30 carbine |
| Let it steam motherfucker let’s go, we in them greends |
| And on the grounds with it we down with it, that’s how we bling |