| Put up, what up, bo bo bo
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| Suckers want to flow
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| But they got no show
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| So I’m a grab the mic
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| Flip a script and leave you stunned
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| Buckshot’s the one
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| That gets the job done
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| Mic check, I get
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| Paid to wreck your set
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| Get ready to jet
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| Cause I’m a threat to your fret
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| No holds barred
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| And complete move fakers
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| Best to be the backup
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| Watch your girl, I might take her
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| If she’s a crab
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| I’m a diss her and slide
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| If she try to riff
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| I got my Smith on my side
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| Word to God
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| Here I come, so make way
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| Rugged and rough
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| Killing your set every day
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| Microphone check
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| One, two, here we go
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| And I’m a let you know
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| Who got the flow
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| Spitting my verbs like
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| An automatic weapon
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| Suckers keep stepping
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| Cause I’m a let you know
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| Who got the props
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| Who got the props
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| 5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot
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| One Mississippi, two Mississippi
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| Sucker tried to diss me
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| Ao I played him like
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| A hippie from the 60's
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| But I’m a get paid from the 90's
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| Quick to play you
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| Little Rascals out like Stymie
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| Kicking flavor
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| With my Life Saver techniques
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| Guaranteed to move feets
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| And I go on for weeks
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| Maybe years if my peers
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| Give me ears to fill
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| Lick off a shot and
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| Act ill, parlay and chill
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| See I paid my dues
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| Now you can’t tell me nothing
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| This is dedicated to the
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| Ones who kept fronting
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| The ones who tried to
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| Diss and play high, oh, no
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| Just cause you had low
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| See now I got dough
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| And I’m paid out my rectum
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| Meaning my backbone
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| Grab the mic, flip a
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| Mad script to your dome
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| Suckers, I kick 'em like tae kwon do
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| Yes and low, from head
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| To toe to let you know
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| I’m the rugged operator
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| Like Arnold Schwarzenegger
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| Buckshot quick to play
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| Your nigga like Sega
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| Smooth trigger-happy snappy
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| Keep my hair nappy
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| When I swinging
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| Ep girls call me big pappy
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| I used to play a game
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| Called ring around the rosey
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| But now I play the mic
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| That’s why the whole world knows me
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| I’m sort of like a Chevy
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| Heavy when I bumrush
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| You’d better bring
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| Your whole damn crew or
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| Get your head crushed, sucker
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| Cause I’m a set it off with one shot
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| One trigger, one nigga
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| Enough heads drop
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| Don’t even try to
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| Play me out cause static
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| Buckshot Shorty
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| He sounds like an automatic
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| Rip the set, my friend’s mad tight
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| Cause I rocks the mic
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| And keeps the crowd hype
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| Straight from bumrush
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| I crush and cause chaos, yo
|
| And I’m a let you know
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| One, two, melody shows
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| And before I flip a script
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| You know I must keep you dozing
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| Into the stage of the Buckshot Shorty
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| Son pass the boom, keep the top on the 40
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| Never ever ever get played, kill that
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| Bust a mad cap in your back
|
| Cause I’m all that
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| Straight from Crooklyn
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| Better known as Brooklyn
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| Elude the hook and
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| Your whole beat’s tooken
|
| Must take charge
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| Bomb guard, I’m the man
|
| Bust my plan, it feeds back on my fam
|
| Once I cruise, pay dues, I never lose
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| When I break on fools
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| Wake up, you don’t snooze
|
| Bust a move
|
| I get smooth like Roadie
|
| Kick it like the Four Horsemen
|
| Yeah, you know me
|
| Booming like a speaker
|
| With my hundred dollar sneakers
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| Baggy black jeans
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| Knapsack and my beeper
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| Keep a fresh cut
|
| Never see me with a busted fro
|
| And I’m a let you know |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Who Got The Props , by - Black Moon. Song from the album Nervous Hip Hop, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп