Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bring It On, artist - Geto Boys.
Date of issue: 31.05.1996
Song language: English
Bring It On |
Cover your dome or feel a motherfucking Glock |
The rugged child is in the house, I’m letting off shots |
Biggity bang biggity bang, hit the motherfucking deck |
I’m down on this track and I’m abouts to get wreck |
I’m coming like a hustler, never coming buster |
Blasting on you hoes screaming, «Die, motherfucker!» |
Never showing mercy cause that shit is for the weak |
I rhyme with my Glock and knock a nigga off his feet |
A young nigga, shorts as I figure |
Step up with that bullshit, I’m a greet you with this trigger |
Blasting on you hoes and let you know how it feels |
Bucking with the 5th ward will get your motherfucking dome peeled |
Motherfucker bring it on |
It’s the Seagster, the major leagster |
Bitch deceiver, nigga life-reliever! |
Oakland hustler, never been a busta |
Make way for the nine-trey, I’m coming motherfucka |
Straight from the 6−9, the final line village |
Doing more damage than a Exxon spillage! |
Uh, coward, and that’s that |
I’m known to pack a gat and put heads on flat |
No rehabilitatin' my trigga' |
Take a nigga out the ghetto |
But you can’t take the ghetto out the nigga |
Ain’t nothing changed since the 70s |
I’m hellbound nigga, my life ain’t never been heavenly |
Never slippin punk no, a nigga don’t lag |
Game tight replace a nigga’s Nikes with a toe tag |
His zoom, his ass, his zigga I’m the founder |
Stacking up bodies like Jeffery Dahmer |
Oh, here comes the flow, watch me as I tip toe |
To a nigga’s window, with my M 6−0 |
Putting motherfuckers out their misery |
And watching the murders reenacted on Unsolved Mysteries |
Trick, coward lame pussy ass faggot |
Six feet deep is where you sleep with the worms and the maggots |
Nigga’s can’t harm me, Rap-A-Lot army |
Coming like Desert Storm, you’ve been warned |
But if you still want some, nigga, bring it on! |
Too Much Trouble done sewed up the tracks |
Bitches not playing like they win or get smacked |
By some young niggas that’s down to break a bitch |
The Nickel Nut and the Band-Aid Bandit |
Yes the Nickel Nut pimping ten different sluts |
You’ve encountered slavery bitch I don’t give a fuck |
That better turn some tricks, a suck a lotta dicks |
And come with my money or they get their ass kicked |
Geto got hoes on the stroll making my bank roll |
But when we tangle bitch, I run with foes |
Cause all about the pen, ain’t talking about the pussy |
I’m talking about the paper, so bitch shake your money maker |
It’s the pimp pimp pimpin, you’re simp simp simpin |
Your bitch chose me now you’re wimp wimp wimpin |
Nigga you was wrong when you reached for your chrome |
A slug to your dome, bad news done beat you home |
You think we was acting about making but you’re wrong |
We in a pizzimping and its on so bitches bring it on |
Bring it on, fool! |
Bring it on, yeah! |
(Repeat 2x) |
Bring it oooooooooooooon! |
Bring it on motherfucker, here I come with this damn thang |
Boom boom boom, and I’m about to make freedom ring |
5th Ward Boys coming hard for the nine trey |
I’m down with them Geto Boys so make my motherfucking day |
The 5th Ward Boys on the motherfucking set |
Putting a slug off in your chest |
Cause you didn’t wear the bulletproof vest |
Nigga, ratta tat tat to your temple |
Shit is real simple, busting up domes like a pimple |
Jump if you want, nigga, and I’m a have to hurt ya |
Murder after murder after goddamn murder! |
Yo I’m taking niggas to the promised land |
With little Bushwick, Scarface, and the goddamn peter man |
Lets rock stupid fuck is fucking it up with Double O, life is stuck up |
For the ten flow, so what you wanna do, ho |
Yeah, cause we’re checking mo motherfuckers, parking mo motherfuckers |
And killing more motherfuckers than any one of you motherfuckers |
While your ho sleeping let’s get it on |
And get your fucking wig split, fool-ass nigga, now bring it on |
I can’t see your ass bitch, so you’d better watch your bust or |
Take that from a blind handicapped motherfucker |
Smoking weed and steadily downing that Schlitz Malt Liquor |
If you wanna step and get done, cause I’m that nigga |
Well it’s me that nigga D (Who?) |
That fat square twister, the one who fucked your sister |
I made her pussy blister, got a dick in the side of my pearl white Lac |
Keep my weed in the front and my brew in the back |
And my heat up under my seat ready to put the lead on ya |
So punk motherfuckers try to test me if you wanna |
Cause we’re smoking that weed, feeling fine |
Got me a 40 and a fat-ass dime |
Smoking that weed, feeling fine |
Got me a 40 and a fat-ass dime! |
A weed-smoking motherfucker, plus I kick doobies |
I’m the one that told that nigga to go insane in that Luby’s |
Ganksta NIP is fucking your daughter, G |
I wake up every morning screaming, «Somebody slaughter me!» |
Step in my path, your ass is void |
Cause I’m an aerodynamic, satanic, schizophrenic android |
Your mind ain’t deep enough, cars can’t creep enough |
Dead bodies complaining we too loud, they can’t sleep enough |
Attempted murder, I didn’t mean to hurt her |
I hadn’t ate in two years, I just wanted a cheeseburger! |
A bulletproof vest won’t protect your chest |
A whole body is hard to digest |
Once I flex, count the next |
The hardest I won like recreation of Malcolm X |
So bring it on, I’m ready to slaughter |
Sitting in church, drinking a 40 of holy water |
Bring it on, fool! |
Bring it on, yeah! |
(Repeat 2x) |
Bring it oooooooooooooon! |
DMG bring it on |
I’ve been a victim of society |
They got me fucked in this whole shit |
Niggas running up with M-11's and some mo shit |
It seems to me they wanna start something |
But I’m a let this motherfucking 9 break em off something |
My homie panicked cause he never thought it’d come to that |
Miggity Mike serving em soft from these niggas gats |
I guess it’s like guerilla warfare |
Now grab your gat and load your clip and go for deaf until you make it there |
And if you don’t then grab your nuts, duke |
Cause that’s the only way these niggas living in the 9-deuce |
More murder by killings and slayings, some shit |
You fake on your tool and find your homie dead in a ditch |
Now the fucking water’s getting hot |
Homie after homie after homie’s getting shot |
And niggas are overlookin the joys of life |
.357 with them hollow point shells in the midnight |
Check it: first I walk up on him like I know him; |
Then, I let me conversation start to ho him |
Yo, I never debates the way I handle my business |
Cause niggas always be fucking shit up well it’s time to handle they |
Business |
He’s peeping out my missile as I stand straight |
So now it’s time to make his ass like a crushed grape |
Come check a nigga gun for his get sound get click |
Yo, you shoulda brought it on |
3−2 comin at ya, comin at ya |
Don’t make me pull my shit and have to cap ya |
With my Glock, I make it go «pop,» it’s a 17 shot |
So a nigga gon drop, a nigga gon drop |
You heard me roll a fatty |
Now I’m at the window of your cocksucking caddy |
So what you wanna do? |
It’s about that time |
Pop pop pop goes the weasel in my nine |
Uh, where your nuts at nigga? |
You’d better let em hang |
Cause we can get it on, ho, it ain’t no thang, uh |
Mo murder mo motherfucking merrier |
Cause I be one of the roughest niggas from the hardcore area |
So quit running your mouth, bitch, you know you can’t fade this |
Rap-A-Lot south shit |
It’s the 3-motherfucking-2 |
So bring on your motherfucking crew bitch, we can get it on |
Strapped assassin, ghetto gladiator |
Leaving a path of destruction like the motherfucking Terminator |
Lurking the streets of hardcore, stalking like a predator |
17 shots to the chest made his clothes wetter than mine |
Cause the nine’ll hit your ass every time |
Got my motherfucking b-mo, going straight for the dome |
Wig-splitting nigga with the finger on the trigger |
Sinister, symptoms of a motherfucking killer |
B-I-G to the motherfucking M-E |
Double L-O's not a motherfucking ho |
But a cutthroat, smiggity smoking niggas like dope |
Now bitch don’t choke, cause the dick’s down your throat |
Getting my blast on, nigga get your ass on |
Riggy run your ass home cause I’m a bring it on, homes! |
It’s the return of the motherfucking dreadlock |
Putting fools in headlocks, giving niggas headshots |
You don’t wanna fuck with me, I ain’t that motherfucka |
I mean that average, run-of-the-mill ass nigga |
You hoes better recognize this nigga that you up against; |
Mista mista Scarface ain’t that nigga to be fucking with |
So lay it down niggas, bump it down or feel the pressure |
Cause I’m the type of nigga that’s known for taking drastic measures |
Quick to rip shit and leave a motherfucker twitching |
So niggas make a run once my rifle starts spittin' |
Round after round after motherfuckin round |
So bitches lay it down, I shut em down, I shut em down! |
Screaming for vengeance I swear that I meant this descended |
Surrender suspended cause, niggas, I meant it |
Calm like an Islamic brother from the Nation |
Still got the mind of a motherfuckin mental patient! |
I got the chrome to my own dome |
But I’m a give you one before I take it home, motherfucka, so, uh |
Bring it on, fool! |
Bring it on, yeah (Repeat 3x) |
Bring it oooooooooooooon! |