Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Won On Won, artist - Cocoa Brovaz. Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Won On Won |
| Smoky Lye, me got flav |
| Smoky Gunz, Cocoa B’s |
| Who wanna look like, wanna act like us |
| Wanna be like, roll the trees like us |
| Wanna talk like wanna walk like us |
| Wanna flip like get ripped like us |
| Wanna act like know you’re black like us |
| Wanna flip like kick shit like us |
| Wanna bust like you ain’t rough like us |
| Tek and Steele, Won on Won, Smoky Guns, what? |
| Ding! |
| That’s the sound of the bell |
| «Oh shit!» |
| is all you heard before you fell |
| To the canvas, all washed up like my dirty drawers |
| And pants get, try to challenge get damaged |
| Plain and simple, with bandages around your temple |
| Easily erased out the picture like pencil |
| Peeped me once, saw me again got your pistol |
| I put permanent fear in your heart like a dimple |
| Son hold my A.V. |
| let me rock this no-body |
| Comin out the closet tryin to stop my money? |
| Actin' like it’s sweet 'cause he ain’t see me in the streets |
| Spit that blood out and get back up on your feet |
| You called me I was there on some Candyman shit |
| Wear that ass out in front your kids and your bitch |
| Hurt you to the boards, put the ten to your jaw |
| Walk away, parley in front of Achmed’s store |
| We don’t give a WHAT about you, tell them niggas who sent you |
| Let 'em come, have 'em all open wide like dentals |
| Heard they work for cheap, think I might rent you |
| If you feel I disrespected you, good, I meant to |
| Nigga I’d wish you’d, talk about runnin' for guns |
| Get your Bankhead Bounce like insufficient funds |
| Left ass-out a home beggin' like bums |
| Cut off, swept off the floor like crumbs |
| I’m from N.Y.C.I.T.Y. |
| stay high |
| Lazy eye, ghetto celeb, rap guy from Bed-Stuy |
| Splash in two lines, me no long rhymes |
| Losin' your attention takin' up your time |
| I gets mine and breathe, 'bout it 'bout it like P |
| Too many wannabe me, wanna flow blow hold dough |
| Like Smoky (Smoky Lah), fly across seas |
| Blow shows for B.C.C. |
| (knock you out), but you can’t be |
| You heard me, you soft like porridge |
| You ain’t gettin' money and you have no courage |
| (Aiyyo son, let me at they ass son) |
| Introducing, the one who gets you bugged like a lucie |
| Same height, same weight, same fight skills like Bruce Lee |
| Try me, ready for those who wanna harm me |
| Don’t toy with me, you wanna be all you can be, join the Army |
| I swarm like bees, plus sting too, bring grooves |
| I blow 'em out like hankies (hachoo!) nab you like cops do |
| For the longest I’ve been waitin', to take it to these Jafaicans |
| Corner eyeballin' on the moves that we was makin' |
| Thinkin' that we lost it 'cause our line was closed |
| Can’t stop a hungry nigga with nuttin' to live foe |
| I’mma see that dough, many hustlers I know |
| Three car longshark white chalk and celo |
| Yo, I think I’ll take this time to remind you |
| Not to step out of line, test mine, CrimeStoppers won’t find you |
| Before we come kickin' your door to the floor |
| Throw you to the wall, makin' you our prisoner of war |
| Cut you too short to take walks with Tattoo |
| Attack you from your front open yo back with my scalpel |
| Snatch two, niggas from the crew if they got |
| Anything to do with motherfuckers coming back to avenge you |
| I intend to, get down for my temple |
| Keep a strong mental when dealin' with evils that men do |
| Them who, fail to comprehend I |
| Recommend you remember you’re dealin' with men who’ll |
| Send you — - off in a coffin |
| 'Cause far too often niggas are gettin' lost and it’s costin' |
| Body parts, from anybody that starts |
| We play the hackers, takin' rappers apart |
| Dissect 'em, from they rectum, to they necks |
| Double check them make sure shit’s correct then direct them |
| To the section, where the session’s, in progression |
| Where you come to get blessed by Smif-N-Wessun |