Lyrics Hit 'Em Up - Da Bush Babees

Hit 'Em Up - Da Bush Babees
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hit 'Em Up, artist - Da Bush Babees.
Date of issue: 05.12.1994
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English

Hit 'Em Up

All hail the chaos
I can crush a man with my bare hands
First up to creep up so check out the bad man
(Ooh child)
When I get wild ya get done
Yo I don’t talk bull but like John I’ll pack son/Paxson
Straight from the motormouth, yo watch me wreck it
Sometimes I repeat myself like a broken record
Like a broken (what?)
Like a broken (what?)
Like a broken (what?)
So check it, got your girl tied up butt naked
Let it hit ya
While I quote the scripture (oh my God)
It ain’t hard, tell 'em what you say (bloodclot!)
Well it’s better, top biller, Ledzilla
Rap dealer like Dominos I deliver
Something, that’ll make you run and call the cops
Yo Sin up to flex knock a man out the box
Simply the boot knocking, rocking niggas nasty
Hell is the barbarian, brother I scratch the plastic
Corny MC’s, punk ass niggas who acting ill, chill I…
Murder and kill and murder and kill
Need a tough neck meaning rough neck to put it simple
I’m down to flex, I give a Shirley to the Temple
Eeeh, eeh, ehh em so check it as I clear my phlegm
Punks and chumps don’t like me and me no like them
The bad man, and rugged ripping flows
Snotty attitude kid I gotta blow my nose
Liver than a socket, can I rock it?
Kick it, like ring a ding ding, whitey grab hold and come wicked
Shoot 'em up die, shoot 'em up pull the trigger
Shoot 'em up die, shoot 'em up pull the trigger
Shoot 'em up die, shoot 'em up pull the trigger
Yo I’m the hands that rocked the cradle bring the finger that pulled the trigger
I was cursed at birth, pistol whipped by the nurse
I pop a punk bringing the funk chump, I even pop a Cert too
Trapped a sucker punk, yo sort of a bad motherfucker blood sucker
Son mud slinger
By the nub of my nine, nigga pucker
Mentally deranged sledge, criminally insane friends
Dude I cut your wrist with the end
I’m gonna slurp the blood outta your girlfriend
Punk/chump, put you in a comma
My blood thirst is worse I need to pick up a blood donor
Then I out
Boom bye bye bye bye in my hydraulic hearse
This is curfew time Mr. Man go berserk
Once again
I said I’m operational
The ill malfunctional, multi stational
Reverb victorious
Lyrically scandalistical
So heat up the grill for real verbalistical
Analistical, no critical individual
Rowdy, sarcastical, dread is bombastical
Funk-aphonic
A brother who technological
Annualically pass so add my name to the chronicle
Bionically ridiculous
Nervous reactional
Trackunally annical
Frantic when I’m acting ill
Open up your door before I come down your chimney with an ice pick
And beat off your toe with my vice grip
A biter’s in the corduroy, cat in the sandbox
Now it’s over cause that’s how it is when Mr. Man rocks

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Other songs of the artist:

NameYear
Pon De Attack 1994
Just Can't Stand It 1994
We Run Things (It's Like Dat) 1994
Intro 1994
Remember We 1994
Brooklyn Movements 1994

Artist lyrics: Da Bush Babees