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Black Moon – Who Got The 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 you stunned
Buckshot's the one
That gets the job done

Mic check, I get
Paid to wreck your set
Get ready to jet
Cause I'm a threat to your fret
No holds barred
And complete move fakers
Best to be the backup
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
One, two, here we go
And I'm a let you know
Who got the flow
Spitting my verbs like
An automatic weapon
Suckers keep stepping
Cause I'm a let you know

[CHORUS]
Who got the props
Who got the props
5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot

[Repeat CHORUS 3x]

One Mississippi, two Mississippi
Sucker tried to diss me
Ao 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
Meaning 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

[Repeat CHORUS 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 swinging
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
Enough 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

[Repeat CHORUS]

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 tooken

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 hundred 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

[Repeat CHORUS 4x]



Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/b/black_moon/who_got_the_props.html

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