Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Blowin' Up The Spot, artist - Gang Starr. Date of issue: 07.03.1994
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Blowin' Up The Spot |
| Ah so now ya got me pissed off, blast off lift off |
| Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off |
| Into your domepiece, Homepeace, I heard your chick wants to bone me |
| I get, wild like rugby, respected like Bugsy |
| Don’t even ask me, cause I’m livin lovely |
| Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed |
| The oral combat will romp that, you’re one of my seeds |
| When I first, busted on the scene |
| Nigga, you knew I had more than a gangsta lean |
| I mean my lean is gangsta though so check it |
| I’ll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record |
| Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya |
| Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while I’m screwin the |
| Fuck out cha girl as she steps into my world |
| I’m not the tallest, but that ass I’ll polish |
| And if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut off |
| But then you’ll sweat her, cause like my leather you’re butter soft |
| Your style stinks kid, ya garbage |
| And if you keep talkin shit, I’mma make ya pay homage |
| Cause the G to the U to the R-U, came too far to |
| Let you slide through, rhymes will scar you |
| And who the fuck are you anyway? |
| I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days |
| Throw the cash in the pot |
| You betta dash nigga, cause I’m blowin up the spot |
| «I'm bout to blow the fuck up» |
| No ex-capin the explosion, those who are dozin, I close in |
| Set the thermostat at sub-zero, they’re frozen |
| Extreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateurs |
| Unable to conquer the Gang, I ain’t mad at cha |
| Peace to Jeru, the Big Shug and the Group Home |
| Keepin it real, no playin niggas or chrome |
| I’m way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit |
| You want some props? |
| Yo dog, here’s a biscuit |
| I’m a smooth nigga and my groove’s bigga, move nigga |
| And we don’t care who’s wit cha, got the picture? |
| And you don’t wanna hear the burners go pop |
| Gang Starr motherfucker, what, blowin up the spot |
| «I'm bout to blow the fuck up» |
| I go from one format then switch to the next |
| Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects |
| Crazy shouts are heard all around |
| Cause the GangStarr sound carries more weight per pound |
| I got some brand new Timbs, so emcees sing new hymns |
| You betta repent, come correct, represent |
| Or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back |
| I got you open, and now you cling to my sac |
| Get off, hands off, stay off, you’re way off |
| You rookie motherfuckers it’s the finals not the playoffs |
| I’ll break you up into particles, to small pieces |
| Because your brain is miniscule |
| You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade |
| I made the rules so go to school and get played |
| Just when you’re thinkin that your jam is hot |
| Up steps the niggas who be blowin up the spot |