ฟังเพลงCruddy Clique (Explicit)

Cruddy Clique - Naughty By Nature

Lyrics by：K. Gist/V. Brown/A. Criss

Ya real worried of the flurries scared as s**t of gettin' hit

You'd think a wall fell out ya

A*s the way you keep shittin' bricks

I revolve around a blow and be in slow

To a quick right

From what ya girl's squeezed

Could match ya age out ya dick size

From now some how comes now street sound

You'll see me toll-free dial one eight hundred

With a beat down

A loss ya can't afford to take stand alone now

I'm the man that come to spank ya

A*s in your own home town

Watch me heat ya up and eat ya quick ya popped Pop-Tart

Flows to rise ya mind to make ya rhyme's pour and stop-start

To hell with all who hates me

Straight up trouble you wait see

I'ma stick you on a cancel list

With double you H T

Ain't lovey-dovey style is stubby nobody's hubby

Plus too f**kin' cruddy to be buddies

And what about the kid they was bustin' him and rushin' him

Hey mane You shoulda listened to

I never f**kin' trusted him

Oh you don't know

Boom bap smack and there it is

Oh you don't know

Boom bap smack and there it is

Oh you don't know

Boom bap smack and there it is

So there it is so there it is

Yoo hoo

To all ya rhymin' mother fuckers

Thinkin' no one can get with ya

Put a dick in ya mouth

And when it's out tell me the temperature

I used to be on some next s**t

But now some new s**t

Some def s**t when I do s**t

Some s**t you wish that you did

Now I'ma pimp you like a punk bitch-slap

You like I want

Stick you like a shank now sit up like a lump

You little lily-liver a*s nigger

I'm about to lily-lift ya a*s

Into the river of nineteen

Give-a- f**k how I struck

When I buck and knuckle up

I tell you to deal quick

You don't wanna f**k with the real s**t

I got a hundred and eighteen reasons of n***a's

That'll track the treason and trap the trigga

So now ya figured that I f**ked ya flow

Stuck up ya h*e

Put nuts to the nose Guts will show

What up Nothin' I know

'Cause I ain't havin' all the chitter-chatter

Hit you with the pitter-patter

'Cause on these tracks my style gets bigger fatter

All for the action plus a fan of Michael Jackson

Give him dibs mother f**k

Who face he bought and put on his

N***a's too nosy talkin' that ol' dumb s**t

Bum s**t

I'm the Cruddy n***a you don't wanna run with

Oh you don't know

Boom bap smack and there it is

Oh you don't know

Boom bap smack and there it is

Oh you don't know

Boom bap smack and there it is

So there it is so there it is

I hang with some killer crazy cruddy

Smack-ya-mother type of n***a's

Quick to split a liver if a tongue flipper's

Against the Rhyme Ripper

Pick a plate a time a rhyme a flow

A feel a vibe

Pick a f**kin' style of your own

Stop pickin' mine

I don't talk jack-shit that I can't pull slick

So feed the cows if you want some M'BULL-SHIT

F**k all I'm tryin' to rank spots

'Cause there's a fright light in the a*s

They're wearin' jock straps for tank tops

Smells like ya ATE A MIDGET

Steppin' from in front of my face

F**k your whole demo and your gimmicks

And don't come up with that ol' buddy s**t

And f**k any b***h that can't hang with a Cruddy Clique