Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 31 Bumrush , by - Artifacts. Song from the album That's Them, in the genre Иностранный рокRelease date: 31.12.1996
Record label: Big Beat
Song language: English
31 Bumrush |
| My off the hook look, leaves my competitors shook |
| No matter what groups you book, I still jam like Sam Cooke |
| Took a whole click out, and had the soundman flippin |
| Kickin wicked freestyle to shit on niggas with the writtens |
| Check my computer type graphics, niggas get they ass kicked |
| Quick if they try to flip like ashes, I’m |
| Never passive, as is, yo you see the flow yo what happened |
| Check out them niggas rappin |
| The clap of the crowd be showin me love like Cupid |
| Loop it back, shit slams like I dished off to Shaq |
| My crew stay strapped with battle raps on cap |
| We ready to clap on chaps who make up half you sucker rap acts |
| I’m intact with facts, MC’s can’t compete with these treats |
| And Shawn J P. with the beats, unleash |
| Talents, balance, styles extra-ordinary |
| With the vocabulary, no other buries |
| We know schematics on rapper’s theatrics |
| Only a few can freak status |
| Artifacts Technique Can freak from here to Dallas, leavin you to clean up |
| Like Alice, shit’s thick like smoke from out the chalice |
| The weak we em-barr-ass, showin no pity on your city |
| We either play you live or have you taped in like MIDI (who) |
| The Brick City Committee comin through a nigga soundset |
| This round’s for all our niggas that didn’t get down yet |
| Ashes to ashes, dust to dust |
| From off the back of the bus, the 31 Bumrush |
| Crews we breeze through, you don’t know, you need to |
| Tell the soundman, don’t touch nothin but the EQ |
| Deafenin, lethal weapon steppin with the props |
| Seekin through your sale racks and peepin all mall cops |
| In to win, tall like, Paul Bunyan, the bass line’s drummin |
| Meanin that the Notty Headed Nigguz comin |
| Lights, camera! |
| Act like you wanna bring the dra-ma |
| I make it hotter than all of Atlanta, ready to act up |
| My Hooterville upbringin is swingin upon ya son |
| Gunnin for your under the name of Tame One |
| Yo, eyes focused, lips ready to toke it |
| You’ll choke on my skit, your dilemma is to quit |
| Flip scripts, who’s the winner takin out all beginners |
| In an instant, my style’s polished and stain resistant |
| The E&J sipper blunt ripper nigga flips your bitch ass |
| With better effects, we go to war like George Lu-cas |
| Toucan Sam and we be the Mister Man simply put |
| Your twelve inch could barely make a foot |
| We got bombs, my momma told me no when I was younger |
| But I told her, «I don’t cry on no shoulders I’m a soldier» |
| Let me show ya, how we can rock a crowd like Ayatollah |
| Check the folder (here we go check it out right now) |
| Now you got the scoop, check the Guess troop low |
| On the chest, niggas still use the word fresh blessed |
| You see the structure, builder, constructer |
| Bust a, nother with the skills that I muster |
| Up touche you check the rhyme forte |
| Artifacts, Tame One, and MC El the Sensai |