Black Moon Who Got Da Props? Lyrics

Who Got Da Props? Lyrics










  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  








Put up, what up, BO BO BO!

Suckers want to flow but they got no show

So I'm a grab the mic, flip a script, and leave ya stunned

Buckshot's the one that gets the job done

Mic check, I get paid to wreck your set

Get ready and jet, cause I'm a threat to your fret

No holds barred, and complete move fakers

Best to play the back and watch your girl, I might take her

If she's a crab I'm a diss her and slide

If she try to riff I got my Smith on my side

Word to God, here I come so make way

Rugged and rough, killing your set every day

Microphone check 1, 2, here we go

And I'm a let you know, who got the flow

Spitting my verbs like an automatic weapon

Suckers keep stepping, so I'm a let you know



	Who got the props? *bo!*

	Who got the props? *bo!*

	5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot! *bo!*  (Repeat 4x)



One Mississippi, two mississippi

Sucker tried to diss me so I played him like a hippie from the 60's

But I'm a get paid from the 90's

Quick to play you Little Rascals out like Stymie

Kicking flavor, with my life saver techniques

Guaranteed to move feets and I go on for weeks

Maybe years if my peers give me ears to fill

Lick off a shot and act ill, parlay and chill

See I paid my dues, now you can't tell me nothing

This is dedicated to the ones who kept fronting

The ones who tried to diss and play high? Oh no

Just cause you had low, see now I got dough

And I'm paid out my rectum, meaing my backbone

Grab the mic, flip a mad script to your dome

Suckers, I kick 'em like tae kwon do

Yes and low, from head to toe to let you know



	Who got the props? *bo!*

	Who got the props? *bo!*

	5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot! *bo!*  (Repeat 4x)



I'm the rugged operator like Arnold Schwarzenegger

Buckshot quick to play your nigga like Sega

Smooth trigger-happy snappy, keep my hair nappy

When I swing an ep girls call me "big pappy"

I used to play a game called "Ring Around the Rosey"

But now I play the mic, that's why the whole world knows me

I'm sort of like a Chevy heavy when I bumrush

You'd better bring your whole damn crew or get your head crushed, sucker

Cause I'm a set it off with one shot

One trigger, one nigga ??? heads drop

Don't even try to play me out cause static

Buckshot Shorty, he sounds like an automatic

Rip the set, my friend's mad tight

Cause I rocks the mic and keeps the crowd hype

Straight from Bumrush, I crush and cause chaos yo, and I'm a let you know



	Who got the props? *bo!*

	Who got the props? *bo!*

	5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot! *bo!*  (Repeat 4x)



One, two, melody shows

And before I flip a script you know I must keep you dozing

Into the stage of the Buckshot Shorty

Son pass the boom, keep the top on the 40

Never ever ever get played, KILL THAT

Bust a mad cap in your back cause I'm all that

Straight from Crooklyn, better known as Brooklyn

Elude the hook and, your whole beat's tookin'

Must take charge, bomb guard, I'm the man

Bust my plan, it feeds back on my fam

Once I cruise, pay dues, I never lose

When I break on fools, wake up, you don't snooze

Bust a move, I get smooth like Roadie

Kick it like the Four Horsemen, yeah you know me

Booming like a speaker with my 100 dollar sneakers

Baggy black jeans, knapsack, and my beeper

keep a fresh cut, never see me with a busted fro

And I'm a let you know...



	Who got the props? *bo!*

	Who got the props? *bo!*

	5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot! *bo!*  (Repeat)