Lyrics If It's Bumpin' - Bubba Sparxxx, Kosha, Bo Hagin

If It's Bumpin'

I drop the verses y’all don’t deliver
Take the chances y’all won’t consider
Got a loyal broad named Betty who
Know what to do with that chrome I give her
I’m on the shitter
Thinkin bout my bank account and how to make it bigger
Then I grab the tool and take your jewels
Now my watch is blue, the same as Jigga’s
It ain’t the liquor I’m really sick, smokin Shwag eatin Crystal chicks
On a rollercoaster with Bo and Kosha
Can’t even fuck witch’all pencil dicks
Ain’t this some shit?
Every time we step inside the club y’all tryna guess
Which one of us gon' snatch your bitch
And leave you strokin all by yourself
Understand this Bubba Sparxxx, S-P-A-R-triple X
I sprinkle soul in your pussy hole
And put some cold on your nip and neck
Tell your man, if he flex it’s gettin drastic, legend has it
I know this mob spell G-A and with no delay they’ll let him have it
It’s just a habit, reppin Athens and LaGrange, it’s in my veins
I’m mixin Beam with Coke in both, and every time it’s still just the same
I tend to aim towards spittin thangs, it’s classical so masterful
When it comes to this here make the shit clear
Hurtin y’all comes natural
We make these lames wanna fight, make these bitches wanna fuck
Drink Bourbon in a cup, if it’s bumpin turn it up
We gon' weave, we gon' roll, watch the Franklin faces fold
Chasin multi-platinum plaques while y’all settlin for dough
Drop that liquid on yo' tongue, put that reefer in your lungs
Close the curtains here we come, boy hush until I’m done
We gon' drink, we gon' smoke, keep the flaw on they toes
When these broads start selecting, we just might end up with yours
Step in the club it’s on
Nevertheless gonna find the somebody I could sip on
A seat with a view in the V.I.P., and got two tight stallions to grip on
A bag of trees to put my lip on — gotta cut it, roll it, light it, pass
And me and Bubba gettin crunk in the club
With a tape full of Bud in a champagne glass
Puttin it down for the B.C., in the backwoods where we be
Better call a producer when you see me
And get your ass right back in the GT
Y’all lame boys, hangin up lookin just for a name boy
Throwin' up signs with the gang boy
Witcho' mind bout gone on that cane boy, it’s a shame boy
You the main one tryna start fights over broads
I spit game boy
I beat 'em down like chop chop chop
Yessuh, cut 'em up and leave 'em alone
On my cell phone they callin, talkin 'bout «Kosha baby, call me»
Leave your name and your number at the sound of the beep
And I’ll get back witcha shawty
Most hated by baby daddies for breakin up happy homes
When I’m in the zone and she don’t say no then that mean she wanna bone
So partna don’t get me wrong, I’m just bein Kosha
That Southern playa with a stroke that keep 'em wet like a ocean
Yessuh, me and Bubba get rowdy (rowdy)
And me and Bubba get bout it (bout it)
When you violate us, we annihilate you, no ifs ands buts about it
The air up here stay cloudy, I originated shot callin'
We step in the club, y’all look at us
And say, «Damn, them boys be ballin»
We make these lames wanna fight, make these bitches wanna fuck
Drink Bourbon in a cup, if it’s bumpin turn it up
We gon' weave, we gon' roll, watch the Franklin faces fold
Chasin multi-platinum plaques while y’all settlin for dough
Drop that liquid on yo' tongue, put that reefer in your lungs
Close the curtains here we come, boy hush until I’m done
We gon' drink, we gon' smoke, keep the flaw on they toes
When these broads start selecting, we just might end up with yours
Whassup fuck nigga, man you know who you is (you know)
You the ones be payin hoes and buyin them gifts (trick ass)
You mad when you find out some other niggas get it
Ain’t payin no bills just stayin real and still be hittin it
I’m a old school playa I just pay for her dinner
Maybe buy a little liquor — I spit some talk in the mirror
This the playa from the soul;
love to gang up on hoes
I’m tryna let this pimp shit go cause I don’t even like it no mo'
See these niggas that I hang with they just run through these skanks
Talk about 'em over dinner, pass women like dank
Mmm-hmm, and I’ma put twenty-five
On the them ol' fire ass Mercedes Rolls
That don’t never come 'round no mo' that shit right dere
Country-ass Bubba Sparxxx, ain’t no fuckin around wit G.O. again
That put me in this backwoods committee
My ace Kosha, Bo Hagin, west central Georgia’s finest
Man Bo, go on snap again
Man, I’m gon' tell it like it is, I’m gon' spit the real
By stayin true to how I live, this here quest for a mil'
Done took a nigga different places, seen plenty of faces
Whatever may have been the cases I thank God for his graces
See my knack for telling fakers, kept me spinnin like breakers
And every day a playa wake up, nigga learnin by haters
See I take a ho, and shake a ho, that’s how we live
All women ain’t bitches but see most of them is, uhh
We make these lames wanna fight, make these bitches wanna fuck
Drink Bourbon in a cup, if it’s bumpin turn it up
We gon' weave, we gon' roll, watch the Franklin faces fold
Chasin multi-platinum plaques while y’all settlin for dough
Drop that liquid on yo' tongue, put that reefer in your lungs
Close the curtains here we come, boy hush until I’m done
We gon' drink, we gon' smoke, keep the flaw on they toes
When these broads start selecting, we just might end up with yours
We make these lames wanna fight, make these bitches wanna fuck
Drink Bourbon in a cup, if it’s bumpin turn it up
We gon' weave, we gon' roll, watch the Franklin faces fold
Chasin multi-platinum plaques while y’all settlin for dough
Drop that liquid on yo' tongue, put that reefer in your lungs
Close the curtains here we come, boy hush until I’m done
We gon' drink, we gon' smoke, keep the flaw on they toes
When these broads start selecting, we just might end up with yours