Canibus, DMP - I Gotcha' lyrics
[Canibus, DMP - I Gotcha' lyrics]
I gotcha! Uh, huh
Huh! You thought I didn't see
Ya now didn't ya? Uh uh, huh
Huh! You tried to sneak by
Me now didn't ya? Hehehe
Uh, huh, huh! Now gimme what'cha promised me
Give it here, c'mon!
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, uh, you know it's all terrific
Know it's yo
I just wanna see you pump yo' fists
I don't wanna hear y'all talk no shit
I just wanna get on stage and show the gift
Show the gift
I'm the type of nigga
That'll click-click ride wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll
Smoke that lah wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll
Bust that nine at'cha
Spit that line at'cha, hit that fi-i yah
Yo, aiyyo whattup, God? No love? Odd
You can't sell crack on the block no more
Cause, I pulled up, parked, rolled up
Sparked dogs barked, OH SHIT! NARC's
I Jackie Chan up the wall and sit in the dark
Or go runnin for a jog while
I spit in the park my jigsaw still hard
The metaphors remain sharp
Give you sharp pains through your
Brain up your slang box
Me and you in the sandbox
With our hands locked
Get the same shit your man
With the broken hand got
I bang Glock, I been hot
Cocked back Mai Ling from Bangkok?
Mind grow, but the fat-ass can sit up front
Your broad that look like trash
Can sit in the trunk
I'ma fuck 'til I break off chunks
Break off a big chunk of skunk
And take off with a blunt
Hit the studio, sometimes I work all day
Still change my voicebox oil every 3K
Step to the stage, throw a sign to the DJ
Everybody screamin out - do
What the weed say!
The type of nigga that'll set up shop wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll
Pace the block wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll pass
The Glock to ya
Stash the rock for ya, nigga I gotcha
(This is) The ghetto-ass shit for you baby
The hood love it
So I gotta give it to 'em daily
I'm on the block, like Olajuwon and Ewing
I'm a pimp bitch, by the way
How ya momma doin?
Like Rakim Allah, I'm a "Microphone Fiend"
The fuckin "Last Dragon" like Leroy Green
That Mausberg kicks, rearrange your spleen
Now you on part of the Handicapped
Olympic Team
I got a, deadly disease without a vaccine
It's called "Get the fuck outta my face
Before I let this Eagle scream!"
You runnin game
All I'm sayin is where your fuckin team?
This that dope
Somebody? and let the lyrics fiend
I'm livin dreams from a stroke of
The pen to get the cream you garbage
I turn the channel when you
Come on the screen
Flow so pure, cause I'm fuckin with raw
Suited up, booted up, and I'm ready for war
Yo 'Bis, let's get it live, grab the tec-9
What else?
The Glock 9, and the double-axle forty-five
Bend your mental from the
Beginning to the end
It's connected to the beginning
Like infinity symbols
I keep it simple, don't wanna offend you
Cause niggas don't understand what
They ain't in to
(Misunderstandin, is still a
Form of understandin)
But y'all niggas don't hear me though
Huh! You thought I didn't see
Ya now didn't ya? Uh uh, huh
Huh! You tried to sneak by
Me now didn't ya? Hehehe
Uh, huh, huh! Now gimme what'cha promised me
Give it here, c'mon!
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, uh, you know it's all terrific
Know it's yo
I just wanna see you pump yo' fists
I don't wanna hear y'all talk no shit
I just wanna get on stage and show the gift
Show the gift
I'm the type of nigga
That'll click-click ride wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll
Smoke that lah wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll
Bust that nine at'cha
Spit that line at'cha, hit that fi-i yah
Yo, aiyyo whattup, God? No love? Odd
You can't sell crack on the block no more
Cause, I pulled up, parked, rolled up
Sparked dogs barked, OH SHIT! NARC's
I Jackie Chan up the wall and sit in the dark
Or go runnin for a jog while
I spit in the park my jigsaw still hard
The metaphors remain sharp
Give you sharp pains through your
Brain up your slang box
Me and you in the sandbox
With our hands locked
Get the same shit your man
With the broken hand got
I bang Glock, I been hot
Cocked back Mai Ling from Bangkok?
Mind grow, but the fat-ass can sit up front
Your broad that look like trash
Can sit in the trunk
I'ma fuck 'til I break off chunks
Break off a big chunk of skunk
And take off with a blunt
Hit the studio, sometimes I work all day
Still change my voicebox oil every 3K
Step to the stage, throw a sign to the DJ
Everybody screamin out - do
What the weed say!
The type of nigga that'll set up shop wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll
Pace the block wit'cha
The type of nigga that'll pass
The Glock to ya
Stash the rock for ya, nigga I gotcha
(This is) The ghetto-ass shit for you baby
The hood love it
So I gotta give it to 'em daily
I'm on the block, like Olajuwon and Ewing
I'm a pimp bitch, by the way
How ya momma doin?
Like Rakim Allah, I'm a "Microphone Fiend"
The fuckin "Last Dragon" like Leroy Green
That Mausberg kicks, rearrange your spleen
Now you on part of the Handicapped
Olympic Team
I got a, deadly disease without a vaccine
It's called "Get the fuck outta my face
Before I let this Eagle scream!"
You runnin game
All I'm sayin is where your fuckin team?
This that dope
Somebody? and let the lyrics fiend
I'm livin dreams from a stroke of
The pen to get the cream you garbage
I turn the channel when you
Come on the screen
Flow so pure, cause I'm fuckin with raw
Suited up, booted up, and I'm ready for war
Yo 'Bis, let's get it live, grab the tec-9
What else?
The Glock 9, and the double-axle forty-five
Bend your mental from the
Beginning to the end
It's connected to the beginning
Like infinity symbols
I keep it simple, don't wanna offend you
Cause niggas don't understand what
They ain't in to
(Misunderstandin, is still a
Form of understandin)
But y'all niggas don't hear me though