Lyrics BME Click - Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz

BME Click

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Yeah!
Yeah!
Yeah!
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It’s your motherfuckin' boy Lil Jon
BME Click representer right
Now I, I, I just got to get some shit off my chest
It’s a lot fuck niggas been talking shit bout me
But you know what?
Pussy nigga I don’t give a fuck
I’m a real nigga
And real nigga handle his motherfuckin' business
Like my niggas bout to do right now
Whatever Bezel give ya gon' be fi-yi-yi
Drop some acid in your drink, make you see tie-dye
I don’t care if my girl just a leg and a thigh
She better split her thighs, let me hear her ay ya ya
They say if you wait a little while, good things’ll come
Drink come, get yours, but you blink and it’s gone
Patient dude, I really can’t wait that long
Been layin' fools down way before that 8ball song
I Like that Benz, go ahead and run that, man
Boy you’s a ho, I think you Juwanna Man
It’s not your boy from D12, it’s ATL
One of the sickest dudes out, they like ain’t he well
Adamville ain’t changed, it’s still the same
They thought knockin' ???
would stop the cane
Boss the plane, they livin' on fantasy island
Double move if a quake, made Atlanta an island
This ya boy Don P, AKA get away from me
I don’t play, I just ride
Hide and go seek, nigga I don’t hide
Never had a watch so I never had the time
Always had money, but I stayed on the grind
Girls give me head so I got 'em in your minds
World’s most wanted, I done did a million crimes
Gotta be established, that I’m twice platinum
Gimme some space, nigga, back back some
Ain’t really smart, but ain’t that dumb
???
nigga you can keep it crunk
I don’t drop hits, nigga, I drop bombs
Forget bein' a star, nigga I’m a fuckin' sun
Nigga lookin' at me talkin' 'bout it’s all good
Kings of crunk, nigga, comin' through your hood
See I ain’t come to play
I came to spit bars inside cars
To let you niggas know where I stay
Two-eighty-five way, don’t miss the byway, on my highway
Eastside we on that Remy and that purple 'round my way
Okay boy, now let me spit, it’s Black Boi
On this here, and boy, I’m real with this shit
I rip drawers off, take your balls off
Cause you knew before you came in my room, girl, you was so sawed off
Was I wrote off?
Oh Nooo
I was strapped at it bitch
Before you close the door, now that’s fo sho
We on that dro
When you get up out my car, bitch, don’t slam my door
Motherfucker
ATL is my home
And on my hip, keep that chrome
For the ones who talkin' shit, they better leave me alone
I ain’t playin' no games, I’m just out for this fame
Gettin' this money is how I see it, gettin' blow from the Jane
Keep your distance, I’m 'bout to start movin' this chain
This hollow tip gon' be rainin' on the top of ya brain
Hot like lava, I’m loadin' up this chrome problem solver
So watch your back cause here I come, droppin' bodies like bombers
This Smith and Wessen, is gonna teach you haters a lesson
All you niggas keep on stressin', how we smoke up the essence
This herbal session, just keep a nigga full of confession
So while I’m diggin' in your purse, I keep that heat for protection
Now gimme your loot
This motherfucker gon' make me pimp shoot
This motherfucker think I’m plannin', think I’m roody like poo
You think I’m gravy, I told you boys don’t play me for lame
This motherfucker didn’t wanna listen, I took his ass out the game, bitch!
T-R-Y M-E pussy nigga
Lil LA off in this bitch, ready to bust yo fuckin' shit, bitch
Rich nigga, if you wanna talk that bullshit
Go on hate, I ain’t stunt ya, runnin' up I’ll get ya split
From the bottom to the top
Top to bottom you will go
Naw ho, I ain’t the nigga, to be fuckin' with fo
Sic 'em, get 'em, split 'em, hit 'em
Tear that nigga ass up
I kill for fun mayne, and I ain’t jokin mayne
What’s up?
Back up fuck nigga, who you takin to?
Yeah, scary ass nigga, we comin' for you
If you wanna talk shit, better be prepared
To live and die in the motherfuckin' ATL
Ain’t nothin' like a good ass-whoopin' to set it off
Come, how you want it bitch and get ya pussy ass off
Them little niggas ain’t gon' fight, so I’ma shoot first
Big nigga wanna tussle, put them hands to work
Decatur born, Decatur bred, Decatur dead in the end
Ho click, more bitch than a ???
and, wishin' yo bitch ass made it
Crunker then a dog in the south west gate
We got hoes shakin' ass, and they got it for sale
Real head, bust it in and put in work for the mail
What’s that smell?
Your dead ass in a hotel
No evidence because there’s never guns in the chair
Cramp in my leg from sittin' in the closet waitin' on ya
Lil Jon, the ESB, finna put them hands on ya
Got claims on your life, the hitman I be
You want the job done, just holla at me, yeah
I can’t feel the ground the beneath me
One of these hoes is down to freak me
Haters they would love shoot rounds to leak me
Have my family sittin' 'round to weep me
Life as a hustler, an everyday struggler, tryin' to double up
And aim for your jugular, if you ever try to trouble us, better knuckle up
The streets, they know what it is
They know what the fake, they know what the real
They go for the kill, do what you feel
Hop in the 'Lac, flash ya grill
Show your gold, throw your bows
Stay on ya toes and don’t trust these hoes
Play ya part, and do ya thang
Always put money before the fame
Y’all niggas don’t wanna see me
Runnin' 'round here hatin' on me
Wanna know what I do wit my cheese
Eighty-four Silverado Chevy
Now I can buy that nine-eleven
And I can get that Escalade
Bout to hit the corner, pop the trunk and let that thang spray
Reppin that GA, Decatur’s where I stay
Nothin but real niggas and bitches out here 'round my way
Lil Bo, I be that nigga, quick to pull a trigger
And put some lead in the head of a fuck nigga
Woke up this mornin', nigga
With a pump and my hand on the trigger
Had a dream last night I was bein' hated on by a bunch of these fuck niggas
These niggas done made me slip now, into my alias now
Coup de grâce SWAT officers and all these haters and these niggas right now
Frankly I’m hot and pissed
This shit is ludicrous
Same niggas you grew up with nigga
Be the same niggas get they wig split
So keep flexin' and talkin', and get your ass whipped
Motherfucker you must not know who you fuckin' with
I’m DJ 64, that nigga XL
Big Sam sayin' this shit to let you know what’s real
You bitch, bitch, ho, ho
Ass, ass, nigga, nigga!
We ain’t playin'
Money slangin'
Justifyin'
Gangsta ridin'
Mo' rich
Pimp shit
I’m just sangin'
ATL ain’t fuckin' playin'!