NoMoreLyrics - lyrics database of all music genres and a lot of soundtrack lyrics
Browse by artist:   A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Deutsch Nederland French Italiano Türkçe Russian Arabic Hebrew
Home >> Pop Da Brown Hornet >> One Shot Deal
Album: The Undaground Emperor

One Shot Deal

[Intro: Down Low Recka]
Eh yo , yo, you got one shot, one shot
One at a time man, don't be floodin the mic
Word up, but you got to keep it real
Cuz bitch ass niggaz, hip-hop is on another level
And ain't havin it no more son
[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
Aiyyo, yo, the next alliance of giants is now official
Fuck what you're doin and cover the main issue
Beats hypnotic to tranq' your whole project
Lay down the concept then we eat off the prospect
I see shit done shit, still remain the one with
The legit high-potent clean record
The undefeated, undisputed
Form an army, you included
We can do this shit to hip-hop music
I Reign victorious, the audience, the eye witness
You can't fuck with the vocab-ulist
You stay frontin, stay rappin 'bout nuttin
You stay talkin 'bout always bustin
Your gat and how it's crack you be pumpin
Come on, tell me how that shit substantial
I take you out before you get the chance to
Feed these rap heads like hip-hop, bogus
To me your show, the stupid niggaz ain't notice
They're satisfied with the mediocre stroker
But once I get to bang it I bang it like it's supposed to
Intelligently, honesty and loyalty to my people
You're see through, that's how I peeped you
Tryin to get over on the goods
Camouflaged in black, tryin to blend in with the hoods
God damn, some people never change
We never stick together that's why shit remain the same
Do the knowledge but first go look the word up
Once I begin there's no time to get stuck
Uh, in position to make the right decisions
Not an amateur, you know I'm top rank in this division
Bring a knucklehead and watch me beat some sense in him
Brown Hornet massage the brain like oxygen
Keep him conscious, pin-point the prognosis
Me and the mic is like high-powered explosives
[No Smiles]
First Pisces, some say I'm fishy and shiesty
Don't like me? Get Aired out like Nikes
Rhymes, tightly, written ass spittin
Get an ass kickin for puttin yo' hands on my kitten
Set trippin, it's gettin hot in the kitchen
If not, stop bitchin, I lock it down like prison
The jail system, get bail but still sentenced
This Hell I live in, killin each other for position
Crackhead Christians, black man listen
You don't want no beef, you ain't ready for the lickin
I Go deep before I make a move, I be thinkin
Chess playin, cess blazin, I'm amazin
Like four wheels I'm skatin, chasin for the paper
Scared niggaz pullin capers
Stop who? You bit off more than you could chew
Sayin what you gon' do, plot hits on crew
But it ain't nuttin new, niggaz been hatin since day one
Games I never played none, source like A1
You play dumb, I could tell a pussy when I see one
They talk, but when it comes to drama they walk
Lookin for support, all by yourself gettin caught
The Time's runnin short and I'm comin with force
Shut down the fort, evacuate the premises
I'ma be the Last Man Standin but the first one who finishes
The Genesis, the new beginnin, it starts now
I spark crowds with a mean bite, and I bark loud
T.M.F. arch style, hittin 'em up
Splittin 'em up, you ain't gettin up
You ain't got no style, you ain't sick enough
You niggaz move too slow, you ain't quick enough
I switch it up, a mad scientist in a lab, mixin up
So when my shit drop, you better pick it up
And if your shit's not hot, you better fix it up
Cuz I'm rollin with my team and there's no clickin up
You ain't big enough to touch, we build
The truth is now finally revealed and it's no longer concealed
[Outro: Down Low Recka]
Oh my God, yo no one shot, I gave y'all niggaz one shot
And y'all wanna kill shit man, come on now
To all y'all brothers out there, competitors
To these brothers right here, opponents
Come on, y'all gotta take it up another level, man
Cuz hip-hop is now on a new level and a new plain
Shaolin, kid, T.M.F., GP, Pop Da Brown Hornet
No Smiles, Tariff, what? That's right, 27 Warrant Squad
Yo, yo, it's like, what? Black Posse, Paris Crew
Ya niggas don't know man, Shaolin History
Staten Island, standing grounds...

All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2003-2019 No More Lyrics .net