Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Slap Boxing, artist - Sean Price. Date of issue: 21.11.2005
Song language: English
Slap Boxing |
| My son got a gun, I say shoot, that’s where the gat’ll spray |
| Make these faggot niggaz go that a way, run |
| Your fab five is jumping, big knives, guns, bats and sticks |
| Fuck all that rapping shit |
| Give a fuck about your bar with the verse, put pa in a hearse |
| Best bet is throw your car in reverse |
| You can act up if you want, clapped up in ya front |
| Pull ya chest and ya back, skit left hooded laugh |
| Y’all niggaz do the row when I rhyme |
| Matter fact use a gun when I rhyme, yo I throw shots from the back of the rover |
| Chickenwing Bob Backlund, that tag on your sofa |
| Niggaz actin’like they don’t know Sean, til I Run up on 'em, smack 'em up with the fo’fo nam |
| Focus the fire, throw shots, hopin’you die smokin' |
| Alot after the toast is retired, motherfucker |
| Yo, fucking with Juxx, you already know what crime it is Hard body beat breaking, that's what kinda rhyme it is Kingston Ave., you already know who grind it is Black beretta, special opt, that's what kinda nine it is Body the wax |
| , first I grab 'em by the neck |
| Then I throw the sawed shotty to back |
| Cold blooded, black hearted, swing the mac retarded |
| My weed clientele, excel my crack market |
| Shawshank swangeler, monster track mangler |
| Wild cowboy, two hosters on my wrangler’s |
| Barbarian, I’m a savage, street viking |
| Bullet street striking, faster than grease lightning |
| Spit volcano, rain, hail, fire |
| Cuz misery sell millions, and pain sell hater |
| Fiend for the foam, my throne is indestructable |
| Niggaz like 'word, son, them niggaz cant fuck with |
| you' |
| Aiyo, I kick the ground when I walk |
| I mean that shit get towned when I walk |
| The pound, and they get be down for ya thoughts |
| They be on the ground with the thoughts, have ya thoughts |
| All over the ground in the park, make a sound when I talk |
| Shhhh, it is the greatest, underrated MC |
| Niggaz hate but don’t say it to me, they get caste in the three |
| The move that you making is peace, ready to Jason, is to be like |
| Damn, keep these niggaz away from the grease, please |
| Bad news, gun click; |
| you die, yo You want good news, switch to Geico |
| A nigga fight me, he getting his eye closed |
| And the shots don’t knock you pa, don’t get Rock |
| Don’t think I don’t know? |
| Huh |
| Your cubix are corny, as corny as the green calling ya team corny |
| Ya whole fleet boring, born with a heat seaking pistol |
| Locked on nigga jaw piece |
| For talking that 'I can give and talk and see' |
| Boy something like a phenomenon |
| That’s why, some shit’s like a feel arm my strong |
| It’s like the lifestyles of the rich and the famous |
| Bitch, they get used to rhyme and stunt, they wanna give it the anus |
| And bring it down, now, wow, how bout, fuck it Let 'em chow down or get what’s out bout, wild out |
| Have it come to the heaters, down south |
| Roundhouse, any bitch, you get caught in a brown route |
| Brownsville! |