Lyrics Knock Out - Kevin Hart

Knock Out

Yeah, this ya boy Kevin Hart aka Chocolate Droppa, ya knowm saying
Real Husbands of Hollywood season 1 was a smash
Which means season 2' gotta be an even bigger smash
Ah yeah--somebody knocked on the door
I said it must be J. B. Smoove in the piece
Yo son you wanna see me, pull out your smart phone and IMDB me
I was real long before the show
Ask my wife Shah, she’ll let you know
Don’t question me, but act like ya heard
Had enthusiasm long before curb
Me and Matt Damon bought a zoo
I live my life, thrill to thrill
Just like my man Jonah Hill
Cartoon voices I bring to life
Robot Chicken, Black Dy-na-mite
A show called The League and another called Bent
Thats not my resume, it’s only a dent
So I’m bound to get paid on season 3
Or no JB on BET
JB is the mothafuckin' shit
The cypher continues
Last year breakaway suit
New Gear breakaway boots
The truck that I drive got a breakaway roof
When I get old I got the breakaway tooth
Breakaway show, breakaway spoof
I’m from Brooklyn, so you know I’m about the truth
Yo we so hot, other networks not
Started from the bottom, now we at the top
Real Husbands got the number one spot
We so conceited, cause the other shows conceded
Yo check it out my album in stores September 35th, go cop that
Breakaway suits the cypher continues
Sowas habt ihr noch nie gesehen
Das Jahr des Ochsen in China, 1973
Mutter Deutsch und der Vater aus Ghana, das ist Afrika
Und ich geh nach Amerika
Ein Traum, kaum zu glauben bis ich da war
No regrets it’s a blessing to share a messaging
In my native languaging
All of these fools don’t know what I’m saying though
Checking the subtitles while watching their own show
Who’s the tallest?
The ballest?
The one with the flawless, the finest
The halfest, the wideness
The german chocolatest, the ab checkers
The one who nevertheless can teach you all some culture facts
«Real» is «echter», «husband» is «Ehemann»
Hollywood really dummy?
Hollywood is Hollywood
They call us mitches with attitude
Who’s they?
Who do you think?
It’s Kev, it makes him feel good
It just got real… the cypher continues
That’s a monkey with him
We gon' Wild Out, I appreciate you
How you gonna talk about my staff like that?
Don’t take none of this ish
personally man
Yo I guess Nelly said it’s hot in here cause Kev took his shirt off
Question for his chest though--how you get that bird off?
Kevin Hart, definition of a jerk off
Fuck Chocolate Drop, your name Hershey Squirt Off
Bunch of mitches
Watch me get this work off
Fuck rappin' y’all should’ve had a twerk off
I’ll tell ya like this real tight
Matter fact we’ll have a battle tonight
I’m better than all y’all
On top like a satellite
Matter fact none of y’all even had a wife
Y’all brought knives to a mothafuckin' cannon fight
I done told you, I done had them right
And if ya wanna get with than spit it
Your facial expression look like you just shitted
So I’ll repeat, sucka sucka sucka
And I never liked you anyway you pretty mothafucka
Nino Brown shit, yeah I said it
Well I thought we were all together today
The cypher continues
How I see now I’m the one they expect to spit
No boss thus far, no Ross no Rick
K-I-N-G, shout out to Tip
The only rapper in this bitch, no disrespect to Nick
More heart than Kevin, mo' tall and all
The realest husband in hollywood, no wife at all
Above the rim before Duane could crawl
I was soul foodin' chicks before Boris was tall
Not all, now here’s the news
I pick 'em up and drop 'em off to (undefined)
Larry David made J. B. smoove
I let J. B. hang with me and now J. B.'s cool
You got a fool in your crew?
Nigga please, my whole crew is the fool
Season 1 was the shit too cool
Now season 2, yeah a nigga renewed
And uh, keep that to yourself
And just watch me as I pat the wealth
And uh, step back with the Versace scarf
And uh, no tip, no biff, no barf
Nigga what you say?
Check the mise
Is them pants leather?
So is mines
Save the best for the last so let’s get it
Drop a hunk of beef for a second so I can spit it
Matter of fact keep it going
I’m about to get raw, let’s go
We wear white cause doves cry
This ain’t your alibi
Smack your girl then say «haha»
Take it back cause I wanna say «bye»
Saw you last week didn’t like your face
Saw you this week in the same place
That mean I don’t travel
That mean I stay in the same place
Got your spit in your face
I got your girl looking (motions to body)
And she wearing all lace
Buck, buck, bang bang that’s a gun homie
Look at you, what you wanna do?
Run homie
I’m mad, I’m glad at the same time feeling all sad
I miss my dad
And sometimes that shit make me mad
But I’m back at being a real nigga
Spittin like I’m Tommy Hilfiger
Didn’t like my clothes so I took em off
Now look at me, cough cough
That mean I’m sick
I’m too legit to quit
Like hammer without the dance moves
I’m looking at you and JB Smoove
Yeah run, run homie
Yeah that’s Bobby Brown homie
Yeah, he is the king
I’m doing this cause he’s a chicken wing
I’m on fire now
Look at me, man pull me out now
If you don’t then say it won’t stop
Man at the end of the day it’s Chocolate Droppa