| Off that ignorant, belligerent
|
| Gorilla people like mugilla
|
| From the chickens liver stanky rivers like kitty liver
|
| Take my finger out your putang you smelly funkadelic
|
| With funkadelic reteric for you relics
|
| (The buffalo fake the nigga street sweeper)
|
| The Grim reaper’s grim reaper
|
| I’m a Don like Magic Juan, off that sauvignon
|
| The game sprays out of my mouth, like a can of Krylon
|
| Riverside to Saigon, I’m killing each track I rhyme on
|
| You had tights on like you had nylons on
|
| Boogie banga funked out panty stainer
|
| Ghetto enough to get TV reception with a coat hanger
|
| Smell me
|
| (It's the (?) words man)
|
| Fake comedy for my accident done on purpose
|
| About to set the fly one
|
| Down with the ghetto Hiesman
|
| I’ll serve niggas in the third person
|
| Don’t even try it
|
| Vaboom, he’s back to putting in work
|
| Vaboom, to make your neck and head jerk
|
| Make’em bang-bang
|
| Make’em all move
|
| Do the damn thing
|
| My niggas bang loose
|
| Timmmber
|
| Hawk it’s the big hawk
|
| Ready to chalk
|
| With the boom ping, ping
|
| That make the Dre swing, swing
|
| Flipped and slipped and clipped equipped the trigger
|
| Hit. |
| Click, click, click, click, click
|
| Nigga, dissa, stealer, scrilla
|
| Did-a-any-body kill her?
|
| I’m blasting
|
| None of them like Danskin
|
| Closing caskets
|
| Chromed
|
| Put my LA throat back on
|
| It’s back on and getting cheddar
|
| In my ride with the blue feather
|
| In Linen
|
| Strolling with the vengeance
|
| And when I make that gun clap
|
| Bitch niggas roll like pigeons
|
| So if you claiming than brang it
|
| And be about the drama
|
| It’s WC and I ain’t your mama
|
| Nigga make way for the big bomber
|
| Mr. all night rider
|
| Original bang hand glider
|
| Scuffing up Chucks swiftly
|
| Looking for a spot launch that mini-mat
|
| And that’s a hard hat
|
| Do it till I get you
|
| Pistol grip whip you
|
| Nigga your pitiful
|
| Picture me back burner material
|
| Never
|
| Scraped off Serial numbers and brought (??)
|
| Ditching your block when live while you work
|
| Cause it ain’t no half repping
|
| Either you riding or not
|
| Cock it or keep stepping
|
| Come on
|
| Feel the breeze
|
| What, y’all ain’t know?
|
| I got a squad so cold
|
| We freeze all area codes
|
| They need this — real Gs
|
| Critical thesis
|
| Bound to break shit down to quarter pieces
|
| For real
|
| DeVil the boss under the Dub
|
| Swanging
|
| Giving orders to chickens and thugs
|
| It ain’t no bitch in this industry that flow like me
|
| Matter fact, it ain’t to many niggas that can see me
|
| For sure, I’ve been none to loc for way too long
|
| Now the spot lights on me, so believe me its on
|
| Its funny the way I’m hated
|
| Always underrated
|
| But ya’ll hoes couldn’t come with it if you masturbated
|
| Niggas wanna test me — I wish you would
|
| Lyrics bang more harder than niggas bang they hood
|
| I come thru unexpected like the in Vietnam grenades
|
| Got so much heat I make the Devil run for shade
|
| This ain’t no game nigga
|
| So, don’t fuck with T
|
| Mess around and be headlining on Unsolved Mysteries
|
| I got warrants for my arrest by the FBDs
|
| For pushing off (??) trying to take these keys
|
| A female fely in Burberry
|
| Picking up money from the commissary
|
| Don’t fuck with Terry
|
| WC… Dr. Stank… DeVil…Lady T
|
| Swang on
|
| Swang on |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bang Loose, artist - WC. Album song Ghetto Heisman, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп