Bumpy Bring It Home Lyrics

Bumpy Bring It Home lyrics

f/ Billy Danze (M.O.P.)







Ayo, turn the, turn the music up some more



In the headphones for me



Check it out [c'mon!]



You ready, it's Bumpy Knuckles baby



Sendin this out to my niggas



All them hardcore street corner, wilders



Ha, ha, Freddie Foxxx baby



That's right, Diamond D baby







[Verse 1]



Whoever thought that I'd be Mr. lyrical flows nice



Like sunsets on the Rio Grande



Grantin after sisters checkin out they can can



My lyrical ability keeps them real niggas



That listen to hip hop feelin me



I keep it underground, sound's a buck China



Even in Japan they know, I'm the ultimate



Spit at me verse, like it's my last one



Slow ones, fast ones, I blast past the fake ass ones



You see, I don't think no nigga's nicer than me



I'm not conceited, that's how I read it, these niggas heated



I dissect your verses like science class frogs



I see your rap records is swine, like hogs



Now cipher, that's like turnin down Janet for Michelle Pfeiffer



See Freddie Foxxx aint wit that



My shit is hotter than cayenne pepper, the mic wrecker



The lethal weapon, I keep you high steppin



It's not my fault that niggas listen to me



And wanna rob shit, cuz I do my motherfuckin job kid



If you a thug then you recognize what you see before you



Eyes and ears said Freddie Foxxx is here



I been waitin it, doin it, sayin it



Rollin by my motherfuckin self with my burner cocked slayin it



And I aint seen nothing that could make me believe



There's a nigga rappin liver than me, you feel me







[HOOK 2X: Billy Danze]



You in a class of your own, Bumpy's in the zone



Leave Bumpy alone! Bumpy get it on



Bumpy spit chrome, Bumpy hold a throne



Now, Bumpy bring it home!







[Verse 2]



I wear Rolex watches and alligator shoes



Where niggas thought devil jeans was the big news



I had fifty miles on my brand new Benz in '89



When you wanted me to critique your rhyme



It just was all right



Niggas brought rappers to me, for approval



Now I give you sixteen bars, for removal



I punch you in your temple make you stagger like Yeltsin



Over hand right to the brain is what you felt son



Then I take off my belt son



Show you what a whippin is, what a true real mic rippin is



You fake niggas can't make it hard for real niggas cuz



There's no defense for the truth so what the deal nigga



No matter who tell it, real niggas always prevail



Just like a fake nigga always fail



Niggas livin in a fairy tale, until they get beef



Then he want peace, bitch, you just a rap pussy



You comin just a lyrical lunatic



I make it blacker than midnight at 12 O'Clock noon and shit



I keep rollin like the black Navi with them Micky Thompsons



Halogen lights, I keep my flow tight



The new Bumpy shit is like the new Jordans when they come out



Got emcees rappin wit they gun out



Memorize lyrics and I spit 'em to the needy



Send love to my nigga Tweety, and can you feel me







[HOOK]







[Verse 3]



I treat 'em like what stick up kids is to dark alleys



What's Slick Rick is to Bally's



What played out NY niggas is to Cali



Runnin from the ill shit



I do what record labels don't like, the real shit



Money is energy, I'm hyped up



Step on stage with that bullshit, get hair wiped up



I be up in your crib, with my two black sigs in your ribs



Takin everything you got to give



The black Robin Hood I rock for niggas that can't afford Rolies



Ride around and in tagged up stolies



I keep the truth like the Holy Qu'ran



Here's a game plan, ambush, best attack, hit off my man



I make you niggas listen to some lyrical shit



Some miracle shit, some empirical shit



Now I'm in flipmode, I got my gun in your brain



And make you run you ch ch ch cha ch ch ch cha chain



Bumpy plays no games, it's all real here



Can't get my gun in the club, I keep it real near



I'm harder than a bulletproof vest wrapped around a steel pole



Six shots all through your body like real soul



James Brown or the Meters



I'm gunnin for you no talent rap style eaters



When Diamond D blessed me I had to come rugged



Or unplug it, only true thugs can fuck shit







[HOOK]