Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Come On Down (feat. Chalie Boy), artist - K Rino. Album song K-Rino and the Texas All-Stars (South Park Coalition), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.05.2011
Record label: Black Book - SoSouth
Song language: English
Come On Down (feat. Chalie Boy) |
I’ll drag you 'cross the water, from Houston to Israel |
I’m a seven course gourmet feast, you a kid’s meal |
Take a sledge hammer, and damage the frame of your Caddy |
Embarrass you, and make your own kids ashamed of they daddy |
The people asking you questions, you answering none |
Out of the trunk, selling mo' junk than Sanford and Son |
You thought testing was a smart move, now you feel dumb |
Like the Texans stupid ass, for not drafting Vince Young |
You opened the door so here I come gunning, no time for no battlers |
Me and the Time Traveler rattle ya, with a perammeter |
Batter ya boy let’s chatter yuh, leave you for scavengers |
Adding you to the long list, of dismissed wanna-be challengers |
Haven’t ya realized yet, all that talk make me aggressive |
Dig in your chest bring the broad out you, like some kind of decongestive |
Material imperial mind, your flow is reposessive |
It ain’t the fact that you’re whack black, I’m just very impressive mayn |
Come on down, to Texas partna |
Tight flows, or anything you need we got ya |
Serving you, Southern hospitality proper |
But know this, you step out of line we drop ya |
The chorus and rap singing, a Don is |
Verbally I astonish, get you hooked on my phonics |
K-Rino spitting that plain flame, I soulfully punish |
You trapped in a web’s game, and into the eyes of who’s punint |
Locked down we run it, hands down no question |
6'4 with a 5'5, wild child mic molesting |
Bark like Mr. Smith, bite like Wesson |
Professor ay step up, and get taught a top flight lesson |
I laugh at ya, K-Rino the paragraph smasher |
Catch you eating, snatch the food off your plate and won’t even ask ya |
If we bet who raps can outlast, you’ll be a cash passer |
One of the first, still one of the last of the ass thrashers |
I’m down with Chalie Boy, if he call me I’m in his corner |
Twenty thousand yards away, take off sprinting and run up on ya |
I vacation in my own hood, keep the Bahammas |
We got mo' flows, than a welfare office got baby mamas |
I break a microphone is half, like the leg of Joe Theisman |
If words was rushing yards, I would probably win the Heisman |
Me temp is rising, your chance of survival is barely breathing |
You telling lies with your hands on the bible, you damn heathen |
I verbally, and verbally capture ya |
Hit your car simultaneously, word slapping the driver and the passenger |
You talking like a pimp, but you steady tricking homes |
I be on your gal all night long, like a Cricket phone |
Etching my name in history books, walking amongst legends |
A part of a coalition, Texas ghetto street reverends |
Chargers the game like Tomlinson, send you packing like Levans |
Have you struggling to survive, like James and Florida Evans |
Darkness about to set in, prepare for the on start |
Shaking like a child fooling with a pit, just got his arm caught |
You weak I ain’t say that, that’s what your mom thought |
You bring a threat to me, like them nuclear bombs Sadaam brought none |