Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sumtn 4 Urrbody, artist - Redman. Album song Red Gone Wild, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 31.12.2006
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
Sumtn 4 Urrbody |
| This is sumtn' 4 urrbody get yo' hands up |
| On the grind, money on yo' mind get yo' grands up |
| If you on top getting hella guap stand up |
| If you on da corner you a goner home and man up |
| This is sumtn' for all my peeps on da East Side |
| A lil sumtn' for my G’s on the West Side |
| Now if ya want it we on it dog, ya know how it is |
| We’re with the illest and realest killers, we handle our biz |
| Let’s get it, rahh |
| Y’all hear that big trunk bumpin', yeah that’s Runt Dawg |
| System knock harder than the cops at your front door |
| Muhfuckas always talkin' tough like they want war |
| Matta fact next nigga stunt gon' get dumped on |
| Yeah, Dawg home |
| I break your jaw bone |
| And the '8 make you lose more weight than Star Jones |
| Rappers don’t come to Jers' |
| Gun under my undershirt |
| I’m hollerin' «Gilla House!» |
| drunk off the Thunderbird |
| My bitch be like, «Damn nigga wash yo' feet» |
| She say the hair on my chest look like taco meat |
| Shit, two hammers |
| Make your whole crew vanish |
| I’m a animal in front of Channel 2 news cameras |
| Bitch I’m like John Wayne |
| Shot like LeBron James |
| The chrome fo'-fo' pretty like Ricky Fontaine |
| My gorillas kill a man |
| We thicker than |
| That wic check peanut butter that come in that big silver can |
| Fuck it let’s make it hot |
| I’m reppin' for all my blocks |
| Duckin', dippin' the cops |
| Ready runnin' the dock |
| Icarus in his sock |
| We comin' straight from the bottom going straight to the top |
| These haters want us to stop |
| Groupies is on our cock |
| Cuz they know it’s going down like I’m Young Joc |
| But I’m not |
| Ready Roc |
| Keep the pistol grip |
| This some official shit |
| Brick city keep it wrapped like a Christmas gift |
| Yo, eh yo cock it back click-click-click Hey! |
| It’s Dr Bombay |
| Sick flow, get your Medicaid |
| And I’m like Hey! |
| My hometown is NJ |
| Eyes redder than Reynaldo Rey |
| I just blaze |
| And I’m a soldier, better follow the leader |
| And for guap I even smack kids like Madea |
| I’m for re-a' |
| Your boy is tight |
| You got weed? |
| Nigga show ya right |
| Gimme a light |
| Icadon nigga I got the semi with the lens |
| I’m in Bushwick, Brooklyn lookin' pretty in the Benz |
| Ghostwriter, got the spirit of Biggie in my pen |
| Funk Doc said it’s time to go, Gilla begins |
| Icadon, you probably saw me leanin' in the B-M'er |
| Fly nigga, baby my socks be up in the cleaners |
| In the club with twin bitches steamin' on my reefer |
| They both go at my balls like Venus and Serena |
| What’s good? |
| Nigga I double |
| My trouble |
| Through a war, price bubble |
| Half dog and half gorilla, get a tight muzzle |
| I shut you down like Smith infrared light gun do |
| My Mrs Smith’ll have you turn over that ice bundle |
| Cadillac Devilles look right with that (Gilla House) |
| Comin' through yo' speakers like my ice cream (in ya mouth) |
| I shoot a bazooka not pipe dreams (Clear 'em out) |
| My name is Saukrates get yo' hands up Gilla House! |
| This is sumtn' 4 urrbody get yo' hands up, hands up… |