Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bia' Bia' 2, artist - Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz. Date of issue: 21.05.2001
Record label: The Orchard
Song language: English
Bia' Bia' 2 |
| Bia Bia, why ya actin'like a — like a Bia Bia, why ya fussin'like a — like a Bia Bia, why ya lookin'like a — like a Bia Bia, why ya frontin'like a — like a Well get |
| cho'hands up, get cho'hands up Got damn it motherfucker, get cho'hands up Well get cho'hands up, get cho'hands up Got damn it motherfucker, get cho'hands up Well throw yo click up, throw yo |
| click up Got damn it motherfucker, throw yo click up Throw yo click up, throw yo click up Got damn it motherfucker, throw yo click up Well what chu'lookin'at nigga, what chu'lookin'at nigga |
| What chu’lookin’at nigga, what chu’lookin’at nigga |
| What chu’lookin’at nigga, what chu’lookin’at nigga |
| What chu’lookin’at nigga, what chu’lookin’at nigga |
| Now what chu’wanna do, what chu’wanna do Got damn it, fuck nigga what chu’wanna do What chu’wanna do (You scared), what chu’wanna do (You scared) |
| Well nigga fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you |
| Well pour me some Bombay and fire up that bomb |
| It’s about time somebody checked you, you bitch ass punk |
| I heard you slapped ya woman cause she told ya the truth |
| Real niggas, bring out the ho in you |
| Us pimp niggas get a foul ho, we chin check her |
| All you do is play the role nigga, you just an actor |
| Won’t let a bitch breathe, if she wanted with your’s |
| You just a weak motherfucker, so insecure |
| How come she can’t leave home without gettin’cussed out |
| Every time you get mad, you say get the fuck out |
| But I told her, I said it’s cool, get at me Come by the house and get nasty |
| I spit the real game |
| I rolled her in my Caddy when she yelled my name |
| I told her call me daddy |
| Trick nigga if you tell me you’s a playa, you’s a lie |
| Cause you’ll never be like Willie Dynamite and Super-Fly |
| You just a… |
| Bump, bump, bump, bump lettin’off shots |
| Double glock, glock, ch-ch, nigga pop pop |
| It don’t stop in that Dirty South |
| Burn up the whole block, that’s what this here we bout |
| Niggas livin lawless, niggas labeled hardest |
| Gonna see who’s life is shortest |
| Regardless this whole world to me is garbage |
| Tryin’to reap my harvest |
| I’m starvin’less than a life of ballin' |
| Yet still tryin’to find my callin' |
| And make a change, look into my eyes all you see is pain |
| Look up in the sky all I see is rain, ain’t no sunshine |
| Call me a monkey, but look I got King Nine bloodlines |
| With P-9's and semi-autos, ain’t guaranteed tomorrow |
| Name all I borrow |
| I represent the slums, ate the crumbs |
| Now I’m reachin’for a new height |
| Nothin’but love and we grew tight |
| Played and renew sight |
| Hustlin’for food tight |
| Who the dopest on the planet BITCH, Chyna Whyte |