KOOL KEITH - Keith N Bumpy lyrics

(feat. 'Bumpy')

[Kool Keith]

See.. you play around too fuckin much

(How many people you got hurt?)

You ain't learned your lesson yet

(You ain't learned your fuckin lesson)

You still playin and fuckin around

That's all you doin, you playin fuckin around

Youse a little bitch..

Youse a bitch-ass nigga, smack your fuckin skullies off

You niggaz ain't learned a fuckin lesson yet?

Count your blessing yet, publicity got you mixed up

And Keith's fucked your whole million dollar aura

Clean cut or thugged out, I don't give a fuck

Niggaz with that champagne shit

Fuckin with me, you'll earn a job in the cleaners

givin motherfuckers a permanent crease

We don't do Entertainment Tonight, Rosie O'Donn-ell

Piss on niggaz like you and take your video models

straight to Church's Chicken, and fuckin McDonald's

Fuck all you glamourized faggot niggaz

Y'all on some real hardcore, maggot niggaz

Catch you in the gridlock in New York City traffic

Hit you in the face with a rock tied up in a fuckin sock

Tell the cops, I'll chase you with a mac-10

Follow your Range Rover with stockin caps

for seventy-eight more fuckin blocks

Watch ambulances and paramedics take off your paragon down

Remove your fuckin mop; take your body pieces

in a fucked up van to a Mexican chop shop

Fuck a bitch-ass bodyguard, bunch of niggaz squealin

Cancel your important meetings, we can do this

Broad daylight, just me and you in a fuckin Jamaican restertaunt

"Who da fuck ya tink you are mon, what ya fuckin doin?

You don't know the FUCK I am" - load three four five clips

Fuckin magazines, I'll show you the fuckin bomb

Ya bloodclot, catch you niggaz in Quadrasonic or Sony

Platinum Sounds, who is it Bill?

Who's fuckin around with Crazy Tony?

All that bullshit, walkin around with - hard packs

You motherfuckers carryin backpacks

That's right, with your hooded parkas

You motherfuckers suck dick and you're phony

[x4]

Y'all do y'all shit in the studio

We bring our shit to your face!

['Bumpy']

My mental is sinister, I run shit like a prime minister

You still breathin motherfucker? But now it's time to finish ya

Blood sport, I heard you on life support

but I'ma make sure that you don't take the witness stand in court

Afternoon, I'ma creep up in your room, past the goon

'fore you (??) ba-boom, and I'm sendin yo' ass to the moon

Another motherfucker bite the dust from the lust

to live plush, and he died quick - from the rush

Now I'm Southbound, fuck the 6, take the Greyhound

Any cat cross the line can't hide it's goin down

I got connects with tecs and white boats and jets

Think I'm playin motherfucker? Let me know who next

Silence and not loud, pick you off in the crowd

Now your shorty growin up in the world as a fatherless child

Everybody choose the fuckin way that they wanna play

Just remember one fuckin day that that ass gotta pay

Cause fuckin with my gravy is like rapin my little baby

And you still wouldn't be safe if you joined the fuckin navy

You must be crazy, thinkin yo' ass can get Swayze

but the only fuckin thing you gon' be doin is pushin up daisies

And it won't faze me, cause real gangsters raised me

Ghetto diamonds praised me and thugs slug just craze me

I know it sounds strange, but it's part of the game

I control bitches brains, when they suckin on my sugar cane

My fame came before money you fuckin dummy

Bitches callin me 'Bumpy' while my dick is in they tummy

But if you cross the line, you won't be able to find

they motherfuckin head, they limbs or they spine

So all you bitch motherfuckers better respect mine

if you plan on bein here to see the fuckin sunshine

(BLAOW!) BLAOW! With one in your spine

Keith N 'Bumpy', put one in your spine