Sound Bwoy Bureill (feat. Top Dog & Starang Wondah)
Verse One:
Boom bye bye/in a botty bwoy head/ The shottie fly now/the botty ly like dead/ 2 shots dead to him chin/enemy a friend/ Fake the funk/I put the junk to an end/ Now who da rude bwoy/wan come tess dogg/ I find his family/and I.D. em in da morgue/ I bet you never thought I bust led/ To prize/I'm a fortified blunt head just like a dread/
You can't tess the champion sound/You gettin bucked down/ Recognize the boot camp click/in a de Bucktown/ Gun thirsty little bastard/always blasted/ From the sess of chocolate/from my dick gastin/ You say you number one wicked selecta/ I say you punani/and I wetcha/ Keep the bull/before I pull this here trigga/ Cause you don't wanna tess me/when I'm tipsy off the liquor/ Like a punk they call McGirt/got his feelings hurt/ Showed his true colors/had to yank up his skirt/ Now he's in misery/tryin to cop a plea/ Led to his head/from gun clapper number 3/ See/lick off a shot you no dick rida/ Lick a shot punani/not gun fire/
Now everybody wanna be dongongon/ All around New York niggas be talkin/but we be stalkin/ In the docks when the gun starts buckin/ But in the day/be wary of where you be walkin/
Chorus DON'T...DON'T....DON'T you ever mention bout you wan Tess the champion sound/ Leave it to de people that can you know that can When people see them a ball fa LEAVE!
Verse Two:
Me naw sex/me ruff like the wicked you fe me/ The motherfucker that be buggin over truth you see/ Original/criminal/run in town/crime pays/ That's when I practised/your act if/you wan get blasted By my nine shot/come around my block/pon the night spot/ In the Pine box/Murderah...Botty bwoy killa/Golden power filla/ We bout to get illa/
Sound bwoy/ya got nuff reason to worry/ Cummin wit my troops/we about to bury/ Betta pack ya dubs and move in a hurry/Ease off sean/ Lookin at my pager/it's about that time/ To load up the 9/and do my derelict crime/ Warriors/conquerors/the man before ya/ Mr. Ripper/a.k.a. the enemy killa/ My man wit the weed/is my man in deed/ And all you sucky-ducky niggas catch nots wit speed/
Talkin bout you have sound/ah my sound you wan tess/ You neva know/that when it comes to championship/ Is we dat have de management/ And carry mack/use you for good use/'cause wee de good crew LEAVE!
Verse Three:
Laud!/Some bwoy wan get dead tonite duke/ As I retrieve the 2-5 from my timboots/ Target pon sight/trick up and cock/ Adjust your pupils to see a dead bwoy walk/ Nuff pussyhole gwan die dis year/ Here comes the bootcamp/slide it to the rear/ Its the rain cummin like a hurricane lickin shots/ More untouchable/than niggas wit de chicken pox/ So/emcees get lifted when I'm spliffted/ Nigga guard ya grill/cause Louisville packs the biscut/ In the session/Smif N Wessun/O-G's see/gun clapper number 1/ Wit my nigga D-O-G....
We bring the realness/feel this/boom it's Black Moon reveal This/ We come to let you know/what the deal is/ Straight up we serve justice/so if you can't be trusted/ May you return where the dust is..
There is many sound that's goin around/and goin on/ And gwan like a clown/but I'm tellin you..Clean up your act/ And come to de livestock 'cause you a deadstock from mornin to de Evenin/now everthing changed...