Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Boss Up Freestyle , by - Young MayLay. Release date: 31.12.2004
Song language: English
Boss Up Freestyle |
| First thang first, I’ma set it off, bang the verse |
| And yank niggas by they shirts, we from the gangsta turf |
| West indeed, coming to contest the lead |
| With Tech’s and vests, so hell yes, the rest should leave |
| Y’all think this industry weenies claimin' the set? |
| I’m from the streets, y’all ain’t even seen gangsta yet |
| Tired of niggas dissin' under they breath, wanna act funny? |
| When you come back to Cali, we gon' tax that money |
| Niggas over here that you payin' for favors? |
| Get it clear, beef with Maylay and nay can save ya |
| My behavior? |
| Nothin' like pick up a pen |
| This the Pac-10 and we back trippin' again |
| Watch ya speech, niggas fresh up out the streets |
| Poppin' heats, while you niggas on ya couch asleep |
| with that microphone |
| Niggas talkin' all that big shit, pistol |
| (Boss ya game up nigga!) And get ya wig blew |
| How many rappers can fuck with the masters? |
| How it burn, turn MCs into dust and ashes |
| Y’all don’t want it with us, we spit fire |
| Wash you niggas and put you in the drier |
| Hold up my nigga, bitch, I’m on the phone! |
| We don’t love 'em hoes, we love the lo-lo's |
| , khakis and chucks, and do-do |
| And if you wasn’t with the business, then whatcha go for? |
| Are you ready? |
| Team lead, nigga, roll the dice |
| (2005!) 9/11 poltergeist |
| I’m from Cali (Yeah!) to Iraq and back |
| Nutty, sick in the head, nigga clap in raps |
| CD’s went platinum, we pimp slapped 'em |
| I’m tryna get off the block like the undercover cop |
| That robbed the rock from 'em |
| We bump at the jam like a batterin' ram |
| Buster ass niggas gotta scatter, scram |
| Listen, young chump, hands up, get movin' |
| Not ya hot boy, better still, hot hoodlum |
| Set 'em up, blast right through 'em, fuck |
| Cut a nigga like buck, I ain’t gots to shoot 'em (Haha!) |
| Slow burner, young king, act turner |
| In so many words, I committed a murder |
| In so many metaphors, trampled and slaughtered |
| Boss Up the gang, pump to swing the border (Haha!) |
| They roll down my block, lookin' at him |
| 88 inches, black rims, black magnum |
| Black 6−4, black fire, black Phantom |
| A pimp got a few white hoes, black madam |
| Stop ya cryin' nigga, sign the line |
| Boss Up been my label since '95 |
| When Dr. Dre scooped me, then the math got signed |
| Incorporate a nigga, that’s the grind |