Pop Da Brown Hornet - Can You Wu-Wu-Wu | Текст песни

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• Pop Da Brown Hornet
• Can You Wu-Wu-Wu

Artist: Pop Da Brown Hornet
Album: n/a
Song: Can You Wu Wu Wu
Typed By: pneumatic

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
Can you Wu Wu Wu, Or is it just a front,
GP the grains' here to give you what you want,
Baby boy bow down,
Listen to the sound of the dirty hip hop dug from deep underground,
The days come, For me to shine like the sun,
The brown one, Awoken by the warrior's drum,
Who wants some, I'll give it to ya right now,
Let’s get rugged wild, Watch me beat your ass like a step child,
We all know who's like microphone pro,
Rain, Sleet, Or snow, I'm out to get dough like a villain,
Chillin like an ice sickle waitin to get you,
Respected like a fully loaded pistol,
Shickle shackled, The fifth borough out the big apple,
Stapleton, Represents, Every time it has to,
Bring it, Watch you get killed like a roast,
We carry big guns under big over-coats.

[Chorus: Pop Da Brown Hornet]
Can you Wu Wu Wu, Or is it just a front,
(GP the grain here to give you what you want)
Can you Wu-Wu-Wu, Or is it just a front.
(GP the grain here to give you what you want)

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
The G-P is, All up in there,
If they're from the grain I gotta treat em like family,
We all know how the story goes,
There's no love for those, Who try to step on our toes,
I'll do em something awful,
The almighty God couldn't keep my black ass up off ya,
Violate, Get smacked like a blind date,
Save the games for later, When holdin down the gate,
Let me speed it up, Just a little touch not that much,
I've been gettin high, Wouldn't want to catch a head rush,
I've been thinkin I wanna go back,
But before I do all that, I gotta get my name on the map,
(Brown Hornet, Say it a little louder now)
(Brown Hornet, Say it a little louder now)
(Brown Hornet) AKA Poppy Dah,
Treat me like a .44 caliber killer, But much iller.

[Chorus]

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
The slums of the Shao, Ya that's where I'm from,
Stapleton bums tote guns and get funds,
Skeem on money makin, Drug dealers,
Stick em for their Super Bowl rings, I roll with the Shaolin stealers,
Let it be known that I got shit sown,
I gets deep, Even my voice is baritone,
Comin through with our guns in the air like Onyx,
Go to any ends, Because we're hooked on phonics,
Bur-da-da-da stick em, There goes another victim,
If you got a death wish I'll put a slug in your system,
No remorse, Survival at any cost,
So fuck it, It's a loss to the dark side of the force,
Gotta say peace, To all them real thugs,
All them wanna be gangstas, Your name's on slugs,
Phony hip hoppers, I comin to your dome,
Takin you off the throne, Beatin you with the cold chrome,
You don't deserve a chance and the sign of the times,
When emcees be comin out with ill rhymes,
That happy rap has to cease,
This is about to get real in this mother fuckin piece.

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