[Chorus: Shawn Wigs (Crunch Lo)] Who am I? (Wigs) Point blank, nothing more (What you do?) Rhymes, spit bars of the raw (What you got?) What you need? I got alot in store
[Shawn Wigs] More than you bargained for, slam the door Slash the Thriller, producers call me Wigs, the beat killer Whether it's hard loops or sweet flips Son, I write shit, to make shit fit, no check this shit I reap for the ruger stash, smoke a hash Bone of the Gers, your bone whistle break when I burst Understood, your flesh get torn, muscle get torn Walk with a hazardous speech, you fake corns get roasted Off wack rappers til I'm posted in the post office I'm like a trip in the matrix Faster than the speed of bullets, ya'll cant take this Dodging them slugs, until your gun need maintenance Holes in the body work, chipping the dating Run vestless, long time coming, I stay restless Drink without a care in the world (Crunch Lo: we on the guestlist) Rap Sinatra, I make good music for the gangstas Joints for the strippers to shake to, ones for the rap heads to bake to Haters to hate to, takes two, me, Allah Kareem in the booth Mic records, black and white, we play checkers Read books, swing big hooks on the track Act gully, end up with the heat to ya back I spit boulders, leave big holes in ya shoulders I move with alotta guns, few dojas And some debit, max the credit, don't sweat it (Crunch Lo: Conduct big business, big business)
[Chorus II: Shawn Wigs (Crunch Lo)] Who are you? (Crunch Lo, hardcore mellow) You got things? (Yeah, that ain't no problemo) (What you need?) Guns, weight and weed (12 bars of lead, to make your ears bleed)
[Crunch Lo] Not you average MC in the place to be Crunch Lo, Staten Island, from the WB Illage, offsprings of the Ironfist Pillage Funny ass rappers should stay in Greenwich Village Othorized F-A-M, the antonym Flipping Any Man, you heard me on the plan Funky like baby shit, making you sick That I dropped and I snuck right in, with my mens We m&m's from big buildings, where the roaches and rats be chilling Survive, we God's children, now it's on Like butter popcorn, with the five bill bomb I'm on the block until the crack of dawn Avoid D's, write my rhymes to feed my seed I'm hungry, some might mistake it for greed But I'm in it until, or you take me out I need to make a few mill, move my fam down south It's me and Shawn Wigs, conduct big biz That's how it is, cuz something gotta give I be running in ya crib, looking for the stash Potato on the end of the barrel, quiet the blast Yap that fool like Fame and Billy Danze Go see papi to cop the sweet grams The man with the master strategies, so please Listen to the hook, while I blow my trees
[Chorus]
[Chorus II]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
