Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Takem' To The Water, artist - Bubba Sparxxx. Album song Dark Days, Bright Nights, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2000
Record label: Interscope
Song language: English
Takem' To The Water |
Usually I wouldn’t brag but I’ve been bustin since my puberty |
In a Cadillac that ride with five guls and they nudity |
You can bring yo' best words, I bet I still outrep you brutally |
Low down dirty and beautiful, who wanna test my verbal side? |
Boy I’m fly-n-tie (?), especially when I let that herbal fly |
Southern fried, cool kid, soaked in country culture |
Leave you dead, peep your bread, a value meal for them busters |
Shit I’m steppin off in the tunnel with a funnel of Keystone |
Ate a ten-strip of blotter, been wiggin all week long |
Y’all keep on, with that jibbery jabbery slippin out happily |
Expose you pretty hoes with a dose of this hospitality |
Gravity in yo' trunk while yo' producers forgot the bump |
We introduce you to these high hats like that, yo' spot is krunk |
This blunt, I put the fire to, I really do admire you |
But even though Bubba dirty, he certainly fin' to shine too |
I hope you can swim if you wanna battle |
You’re up shit creek without a paddle |
Whatcha gon' do now, grab my pen and slaughter |
Bubba Ken and Duddy Ken, take’m to the water |
I hope you can swim if you wanna battle |
You’re up shit creek without a paddle |
Y’all ain’t ready (y'all ain’t ready) |
Y’all ain’t ready — take’m to the water |
See momma named me lil' devil, that ain’t no relation to Satan |
Ain’t got no patience for hatin, I’ll be at the station awaitin |
The arrival of that DJ that don’t replay unless we pay |
I stormed the beach like D-Day, now that bitch play, when we say |
I’m with D.K., ain’t no N.Y., and we been fly, since gin (?) |
Sips bourbon with a twist, Bubba lurkin in your midstWithout my dick perverted |
this cause y’all was smellin vaginal |
Been bumped wrong, one too many times for actin rational |
D.K. |
I bomb folks, man I throw heat like I was John Smokes |
But mine from a gun though, change yo' name to John Doe |
Shit, have your whole family Mourning like Alonzo |
Then go back to my condo, so I can let my kind grow |
Is you blind folk? |
Why you can’t see bigger thangs? |
Don’t rup on this stage, cause ain’t no bitch-ass nigga mayn |
And my mob ain’t either, don’t make me have to play a song |
With my lil' chrome heater, bet that and (?) punk nigga |
Now get it get it crunk, like jumpoffs, B.K. |
they trippin |
I’m fin' to go on and take one of they lumps off, cause I ain’t slippin |
Just hippin you to this real shit, so get in where you fit |
Sittin on lean, off that Jim Beam, fin' to throw a fit |
From A.T.H. |
to Atlanta, Louisiana, Savannah |
Sippin gin and Tropicana while Georgia play Alabama |
Might stumble over a freestyle and pick up like a scanner |
Turn the mics off lost, somebody call the light boss |
Aww shit |
Boy I’m out here chasin daddy lucid, shit Satan produced it |
Switched from duce-duces to substance abuse nuisance |
Fuckin these loose gooses, raw dick, we all sick |
I’m goin skinny dippin after y’all hit (aww shit) |
That country fuckin Bubba hit his head and lost his mind |
Eight grand for a Roley? |
That only just bought you time |
I’m in line waitin to grind, it’s too cloudy for me to shine |
I’mma keep this bitch krunk, get rowdy, while you recline |
And in time, I’mma jump this fuckin ship, and run and get |
My crown in every town, I lay it down, when I spit |
This shit, is so much more than white folks and white thangs |
Or black folks and black thangs, just bounce if the track bangs |
You lack game, Bubba got that shit goin two for fifty |
Communicatin cool with them country folk, strictly |
Just hit me, on the beep, whenever, cause I don’t sleep |
Two thousand, every week, take a peep, before you leap |
— repeat 2X |