Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Klickow-Klickow , by - Naughty By Nature. Release date: 28.11.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Klickow-Klickow |
| 1−2-3 I’m up to bat so pitch me an MC so I can get ill |
| And knock his ass into left field |
| I’m still a body bruisin' master |
| Dat some ole' evil little bastard get fast and I’ll outcast ya |
| Like port huh we on some ole' new shit my click is hip hop it |
| 5−6 we hit cha from the bricks back the fuck up like Onyx said |
| Don’t make me act the fuck up I’m known to have a hot head |
| Hey call me the mud city mangler the nigga neck yolk tangler |
| A star spangler boogie banger |
| Rottin' Razklas |
| 118 on the scene I’m representin' |
| And if I ain’t punchin' and thumpin' I’m stompin' |
| And kickin'' in nigga take a step back |
| It ain’t even all that nigga catch a cap |
| If ya don’t wanna brawl jack |
| Guzzle down a 40 till I’m all full |
| Take another hit of the dirl with a long pull |
| I gets blitzed outta proper state of mind |
| When me and my click searchin' for trouble to find |
| No he didn’t but I’ll you |
| Hook: |
| I tell you what good with deez some and the how |
| Cause that’s why I stays with my klickow klickow (x2) |
| Right out the alleys of Cali |
| Not eh balley straight out the hood is the notorious one |
| Hitter quitter skull splitter triggers from Inglewood |
| Watch us bring wreck quick |
| Road Dawgs the next kick |
| Pluggin' you jugular vein it pour like rain when ya neck whip |
| 235 thick |
| Ingelwood Illtown click |
| Low hot off the bricks trot off or get shot off in the mix |
| Boobie and Luvchild staying trues paying dues |
| Madmen with ten millimeter heaters sprayin' fools |
| And slaying crews |
| Who wanna tangle get caught up and dangled yoked and strangle |
| In a fight straight soldiers swingin' pipes from every angle |
| Keep my hand on the nitty Glock fifty |
| Swift with my tool to lift any fool that wanna fuck with me |
| Don’t sleep on Jersey nor California shit is grimmy trim ya limb |
| Blood and phlegm is all on him after we warn ya |
| It’s curtains kids certain things we won’t allow |
| Cause that how we stand with ours klickow klickow |
| Treach: |
| Word to the mother my mother was the only checkin' mines |
| So motherfuck your mother’s father if he step like mines |
| Swift kicking cocks I hit spots and blocks |
| So listen pops then I’ll miss you like I miss measles |
| Mumps plus fuckin' chicken pox |
| Givin' props to all the Old school that paved the way |
| Plus zero I fear no hero you think will up and save the day hey |
| Three letters describing that ass here’s a clue |
| S-C-K the only thing missing is you |
| Excuse up’s excuse um you’ve yet to lose one two ton |
| Crews son doing more then leaving bruised gums |
| Try it riot I’ll roll quiet you’ll never catch the trap |
| Cause I ain’t the the the that to flap the yap |
| A black alley cats can catch my back |
| And to that and these scrap |
| Back to back wreck to wreck and wreck necks |
| Of macks fake macks break their necks to say I take that back |
| You see it used to be a time you rolled with shanks and friends |
| But nowadays we roll in fuckin' tanks with rims |
| That’s how it go that’s how we roll pow! |
| Cause that’s how I stand with mine klickow klickow |
| Hook |
| Gutta Nigga and I Face Finsta the two man cruddy collision |
| Illtown’s villian that’s wanted for some niggas killin' |
| Keep my material similar to a serial killer |
| Peeling cats check my stats ain’t no nigga iller |
| Now here I go with the klick klacks the Tatter rat ta ta tat tats patter |
| Pat |
| Pats to better brat packs |
| I’m airing shit out like DAT |
| Jack it’s judgement day and I’m seenin' is human beings |
| Got cha fleein' word to me Mook Daddy and Little Steven |
| Comin' straight form the top notch of hip hop |
| Niggas gather round to the sound that nigga from the gutta not |
| Kick that slang talk explain why ya can’t walk |
| It ain’t my fault ya hit a flip and couldn’t sommersault |
| I’m on a route with my nigga on some new shit |
| Flowin' with that music nigga WON’T YOU USE IT |
| To your advantage if you could manage the damage |
| I’m handing when ya get the fuckin' mic it leave ya hands branded |
| Ya backwards ass assborn assbackwards |
| Coming out feet first and getting drugged into this next verse |
| On the contrary I’m not ya ordinatry adversary |
| That’s secondary I leave ya floatin' like a fuckin' ferry |
| Advancing my chances and ya retreatin' |
| From the beatin' ya seekin' |
| Fuckin' with me and feel your fluids leakin' |
| On time for too much tough talk |
| Nigga walk and keep walking |
| Fore I take ya tongue and make you stop talking |
| I’ll meet ya at death’s gate when a nigga took a step late |
| Jacked 'em for his place he set up shot in the next state |
| Yo zapping all the zip zags not that all the zig zag |
| Shot 'em in the stomach now he’s living out a shit bag |
| Ha ha ha fag couldn’t fuck with a nigga with nine rounds |
| A rugged Cruddy Click from the guttas of Illtown |
| This ain’t a rap along clap along song son my shit is on |
| With more thong then Janet with her panties on |
| Ya best to get it out the way boy |
| The two slickest to ever kick it now klickow klickow |
| Hook |