Lyrics Rata - Tech N9ne, Krizz Kaliko

Rata

Rata, rata
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Ayy, fucking ratas
Kaliko, Kaliko, campos
Who got day one on the trigger, I do
Real nigga say
Who got day one on the trigger, I do
Real nigga, ayy
Why you gotta do it?
(Why?)
Why you gotta do it?
(Bitch)
Why you gotta do it?
Why you gotta spew it?
(Ayy)
Why you gotta spew it?
(I don’t know)
That’s so fucking foolish
In my book, never been a pardon
When the yapping happens, capping in your jargon
Babble yells, that’ll fail
I bet you been a tattletale since kindergarten
He’s punked, we dump the punk, debunked, no sin again
We bump P Funk, he slumps, Glee jump, so feminine
That’s why he’s a cop dressed in his block best, but a hot mess
Never do know how to talk less, so we plot stretch, when you got next?
Two in the ten, he doing again
He gonna rat on you and a friend, then you in the pen
He gonna mix it up and try to put you and the crew in the blend
He gonna tell, then the screwing begin
El capo debacle, that is what he can offer
Depend on him and then in a rut he can toss you
He claim he down, dirty, and muddy but softer
Than cotton candy, me and my buddies’ll off you
Anything go down, bro?
I don’t know, I don’t know
We just make the sound, yo
I don’t know, I don’t know
You gon' make these hounds go
Round your crown, so
One, two, one, two, three, ayy
Rata (Rata, rata)
We go cuckoo, we go blocka (Blocka, blocka)
We go do-do with the chopper (Do-do-do-do-do)
Stomp you like a cucaracha
Say goodbye to your day, ayy
Koba, you’s a fucking mentirosa (Say it again, ayy)
Koba, you’s a fucking mentirosa
Yeah, he a traitor, Joe, he’s a hater, moe
Wanna get up in the mix and delay the dough
Man, I heard he nerdy but he play the role
Of a killer, iller than I spray this flow
Why you got to go and (Spread lies)
That’s when all my homies (Dead flies)
And that’s when all the evil lying ass straight divisive ice up in your (Head
dies)
What in the cup string, the cup doohickey?
Why you got to be a true sissy when you know I’m carrying a tool with me?
Everybody know that you iffy
Gonna be on your head in a cool jiffy
All I’m saying is the dude’s sickly
You believe him or not like you view Ripley, I’m gone
Gun on my waist, yeah, gun on my waist
You gotta pay 'cause you’re taking the food out my baby mouth house nigga,
watch what you say
'Cause if you cross the line (Oh yeah)
This not gon' happen one more time
Say, say goodbye to your day, yeah
Anything go down, bro?
I don’t know, I don’t know
We just make the sound, yo
I don’t know, I don’t know
You gon' make these hounds go
Round your crown, so
One, two, one, two, three, ayy
Rata (Rata, rata)
We go cuckoo, we go blocka (Blocka, blocka)
We go do-do with the chopper (Do-do-do-do-do)
Stomp you like a cucaracha
Say goodbye to your day, ayy
Rata (Rata, rata)
We go cuckoo, we go blocka (Blocka, blocka)
We go do-do with the chopper (Do-do-do-do-do)
Stomp you like a cucaracha
Say goodbye to your day, ayy