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pack it up - bebop lyrics

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i said, i said, i said
i’ve had enough, we beefin’, no sleepin
i’m tweakin’, you’re geekin’, just know that i’ve had enough
we argue and you don’t make sense

i’m sick of your sh*t, so pack up your stuff
all this lip that i get, it never makes sense
i guess it’s that time of the month
i’m sick of your tongue talkin’ tough

don’t tell me, don’t tell me that i’m not enough
i never needed your love
solo my demons, i’m tough
when i’m alone in the zone, you know that i’m up

yeah, yeah, you know that i’m up
thirty nights in cyprus, sightseeing the night scene
i liked it and i smoked a blunt
got on two boats, f*cked on two hoes
saw two castles with moats and i’m buff

six*speed whip from the sixties
spinnin’ three sixties leavin’ you in the dust
i’m not a tourist here, i have connections
trust me, bebop gets love in the club
i drive a ford taurus, it’s an sho
but i still have six cypriots on my nuts
when phoenixx drops and it bops
n0body but bebop is gettin’ a cut
n0body but bebop is gettin’ a cut
i rolled myself a professional blunt
smokin’ this wood and it’s white with the runtz
i’m gassin’ this b*tch cause i do what i want (i do)
i do what i want
i smoke in this b*tch cause i do what i want
i’m not really hard, this act is a front
let’s get back to the rappin’ so that i can stunt

jesus kush, that’s a vatican blunt
i’m a dawg and she’s actin’ a mutt
she jaba to me so i’m sendin’ her home all alone
then i’m runnin’ straight back to the hut

i’ve got the dough, bro, let your hoe know
no one out pizzas the hut
my flow so sharp, it’s a no*no to touch
because that would be leavin’ a cut

i had to extend the beat
because bebop could not rap on this sh*t just once
mind my transition, cause i’m on a mission
two minutes is never enough
it’s never enough
yeah, two minutes is never enough
mind my transition, cause i’m on a mission
two minutes, i**
i’ve had enough
we beefin’, no sleepin
i’m tweakin’, you’re geekin
just know that i’ve had enough
we argue and you don’t make sense
i’m sick of your sh*t, so pack up your stuff
all this lip that i get, it never makes sense
i guess it’s that time of the month
i’m sick of your tongue talkin’ tough
don’t tell me, don’t tell me that i’m not enough

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