I'm a professional I'm a professional I'm a professional...
[top dog] You must be blind and deaf To think that you can test Originoo gunn clappz 2 to yo chest (pumm! pumm!) May the buddha bless you where they rest you Underground, where you hear the sound Bucktown! Home where we roam Pack mad chrome So niggas watch your dome-piece Or you just might just catch 2 shots to your motherfuckin head Batty bwoy gwan dead [ruck] Time for some action Dick in yo mouth satisfaction I pull it out you breathe again like toni braxton I'm askin niggas, but I'm blastin niggas Yo we pass dem niggas, so the ruck just laugh at niggas My mind ills off rhyme skills and nine mills So I'll drill styles that keep the mine filled Blunts get smoked and chumps get choked When they try to quote the notes that b-i-g ruck wrote So ah make way for the master blaster Who blast past bastards, 'cause my shit's mastered,uh Chorus: Blah! like this Blah! like that The heltah, the skeltah, the gunn, the clappaz Blah! like this Blah! like that The heltah, the skeltah, the gunn, the clappaz Blah! like this Blah! like that The heltah, the skeltah, the gunn, the clappaz [louieville sluggah] Well it's the louieville sluggah motherfucka Straight outta bucktown! Word to mother, shit is real fuckin' with this crowd Times is hard, niggas do need a bodyguard To block the body scars, bootcamp always stand in charge I brings the beef to the biggest of them bigger niggas All them bigger niggas scared to death of all us little niggas And smif(smif) to the wessun(wessun) got our backs So nigga grab ya gat, 'cause you could catch a head clap Slap the nigga face up and down, take the smile off ya face Or catch 2 strays straight to ya face You punk pussy, you's a rookie I'ma play your ass like a hot day of hookie, so push me I'll stomp ya face, put a boot in the place of ya front tooth The truth you shoulda let loose (chorus) [rock] Ayo, go get your boys Tell 'em bring the noise if ya want want it (fuck dem niggas!) Try and run up on this nigga that stay blunted That nigga rock still livin' ill I will kill at will And fill you up from yo gut to yo grill (tell em sam, tell em sam) Nah, man that be my grandpops I slam cops for glocks And buck shots all over your block I can't believe there really be non-believers Who wanna see the rock give 'em growing pains like mike seaver (nah mean) Mr. inflicksta will jack ya, rollin with the originoo gunn clappaz So act up, we strapped (what!) Boot camp's thick in this bitch Guard ya melon or catch a swellin from some old stiff shit [starang] Niggas get crushed into dust, they can feel the wrath plus Fuck around and get that ass bust Standin in the back ya wondered and ya frightened Fuckin with the starang ya face the thunder and the lightnin Awesome, tossin' niggas like steve austin Niggas get baked like beans that's straight from boston And my glocks make shit hot, cops get More nervous than thursdays on the box And every now and then a sucka trys to attack Heltah skeltah plays the front, gunn clappaz in the back So act, like you want the mac to ya grill Embrace my face it's kill or be killed (chorus) Like this like this like this like this like this like that It's the heltah skeltah gunn clappaz Blah this, blah that, like this like that...