Come On Lyrics

Come On lyrics

featuring Boot Camp Clik

[Rock]
Come on (BCC)
Come on (MFC)
Come
on (BCC)
Come on (YEAH!)
Aiyyo Rock Rock Rock
Everybody say Rock not
Lou from suburbs to PJ's
So watch ya hootchie groupies get dudes beat
up
Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck
See me on
the streets 'bra I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper
Two piece your
man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper
Then see ya, catch me in a club on
a wall
Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin on my balls
Surrounded my
thugs, maybe two or two times ten
Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card
got in (Your Rapper Card?)
Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live
sessions
Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots
ecetera

[Buckshot]
Buckshot rock knots wit fists
Niggas stay high
while I rock wit this
Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous
Too close
wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss
I'm wiggin out while I'm diggin
out backs
Run from the gun claps, run three laps
Perhaps, them niggas you
sent to carjack
Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs
Now this is
what I act like when I smoke on black
Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit
facts
>From the, street Bible or the street Quran
Fake thugs ride the
dick when my shit comes on
I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin
strong
You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)
But still the
bomb

[Tek]
It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees
strip-ons
Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on
My grimy
Brooklyn niggas stay flippin ya chick
While my crew from New Jerus stay
vickin ya whips
Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin like this
Deep
impact steez been like a chromed out six
Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the
chip
Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick
I keep the livin
quarter held down wit two nines
One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all
times
So while I'm takin a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit
The amount
we flip depends on what we get
It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money
move quick
My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit
On they ears
and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone
Look, ain't no tellin how many
gats I've thrown

[Rock] (Steele)
Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin
wild)
Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)
Come on (yo yo
for all the soldiers on the streets)
Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to
eat)

[Lidu Rock]
Yo the set I claim is the set that bang
To the
muthafuckin end, I be doin my thing (YEAH!)
Lidu Rock, know the name in New
York we G stackin
First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is
carjackin
Like my nigga Craig and em say, "Fuck that shit!"
Rockin shines
in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit
Or watch yo' step baby, watch where
you walk
I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk
For real
son, now we got mad cops on the block
Cuz we hold it down for Doc and I keep
my heat cocked
Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me
So
if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me,
muthafucker

[Ruck]
You a many style copy-cat, ?bendy mile? stockin
cap
Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat
Ruck reign supreme,
aim the steam
When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans
Maybe these,
niggas ain't ready for the Magnum
Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged
them
Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them
Monkey niggas don't
fuck wit the Ruck cuz they fags, son
The last one, to step to Sean P caught a
bad one
Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em
Cornball niggas
wit drugs thinkin they weight great
Still bummin money for stoges and a
Drakes cake

[Steele]
Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin wit some
heavyweights
Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper
mates
Demonstrate, spectacular venacular
Smackin ya upside the back of ya
head wit a spatula
Snatchin ya, off the street like police
Next week, they
find your body washin up on the beach
Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't
got nuttin to say fool)
Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong
See me in
Brook-lyn where crooks be armed
Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial
suites
Callin your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place
We the type
you love to hate cuz we stay in your face
Sayin our grace before we put our
hands in our plates
Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet
My mind
spray like a murderer's nine spray
The crime way, get mine three-hundred
sixty-five day

[DJ Clue]
DJ Clue, The Professional
Part One, you
know how we do it
Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco
My nigga
B.I.G. word up
And we out, till next time
For all parties Big Skane
800-570-3657
Aight then