Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Comin' Thru, artist - Das EFX. Date of issue: 31.12.1969
Song language: English
Comin' Thru |
| Comin thru’wit my crew like this |
| Aah, I’m wit my crew like this, comin thru |
| Comin thru wit my crew like this |
| Uhh, wit my crew like this |
| Comin thru wit my crew like this |
| Boy what? |
| Wit my crew like this |
| Comin thru wit my crew like this |
| Uhh, wit my crew like this |
| Verse One: Dray, Skoob |
| Well yo, it’s 1995 this the way my crew troop |
| I be the Krayzie Drayzie come to put’cha on the scoop |
| like, to be a rapper nowadays is real handy |
| that’s why all these niggas wanna be down like Brandy |
| They huffin 'n'puffin but still ain’t sayin nuffin |
| I see dem bluffin, they full of shit like stuffin |
| Uh, without rehearsal my style is universal |
| and I been drinkin St. Ives before dem commercials |
| I puff a el everytime I gotta write again |
| so I can climb the fuckin charts like Spiderman |
| Yo yo, I be the Books but don’t confuse me with Scholasis |
| Boy, I’ll still sink your head like I was St. John the Baptist |
| Spot-blower especially when I’m not sober |
| Twisted in the head I’m seein red like October |
| Yo, the jibber-jabber, ain’t a livin rapper deeper |
| who get looser than the leaves up in my fuckin ??? |
| Flavor like twice so you better rise up Read the off-the-wall styles like ya game of flys up No ruggle, I’m bout to shove anover |
| blunt, where I two-talk, it’s New York undercover |
| And I don’t have pity, more raps than rap city |
| Got styles out the ass so call my raps shitty |
| Comin thru' |
| Verse Two: Dray, Skoob |
| I’m bringin it back wit my niggy, it’s goin down no diggy |
| I riggity rock the miggity mic and got dreds like Ziggy |
| Marley, don’t own a Harley, you’re what they call me kickity Krayzie Drayzie on the mic so what you want G? |
| I’m rantin and ravin, still misbehavin |
| See I be causin trouble even since I started shavin |
| This ain’t Craig Mack but black you know the flave |
| I briggity break that ass up just like Super Dave |
| I’m kiggity comin with a gangsta like Boo Boo |
| I put it thru you, ya stinkity stink like doo doo |
| Giggity guess who next up on deck for wreck? |
| Shit is on and my palms don’t sweat |
| Forty days and nights get in some fights |
| to get this style piece and on before this water mic scored |
| Dat ass tried to slip a fast one by me Claimin to represent the murderers like Johnnie |
| Cochran, but ain’t no stoppin when I’m diggity droppin |
| for dump, forgotten, the low down dirty rotten |
| juvenile delinquents cos I still stink wit ghetto flavour |
| distortin my behaviour (Check it out) |
| Tootz, I’m in it for the panties, fuck the Grammys |
| It’s the Books, style underground |
| Lounge with the tootz on some ol’major look-type shit |
| and when I come thru I’m wit my crew like this |
| Comin thru |
| (Comin thru wit my crew like this) |
| Comin thru, what? |
| Blowin up the spot, punk you know we never miss |
| (Comin thru wit my crew like this) |
| (Yeah yeah, I’m wit my crew like this) |
| Uh comin thru |