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lirik lagu whatcha come around here for – flipmode squad

yeah, heh
a flipmode y’all, a flipmode y’all
a flipmode y’all, a flipmode y’all
hah, heh, hahahaha, yo, yo, uh

i spits rhymes for thug cats, neighborhood drug rats
hardcore, keep it raw, what n-gg-z love that
stack the greenbacks and stay steady with the weed sack
spliff star, one of the famous foreigners from east flat-bush

fire arms till you no longer breather black
make it hot, standin’ on the corner wit the g-pack
look at me lampin’ in defiance wit my seats back
got the game to f-ck wit jane? where you and her sleep at

lyrically inclined and inclined to get lyrical
checkin’ for residuals, rhymin’ be the ritual
ill individual, bad habitat, watch my voice battle cats
while i’m spittin’ battle raps

on the high horse and i keep my saddle strapped
you’d be headin’ up the river like ‘where the paddle at?’
got a rhyme overload rah digga always front ya
leavin’ n-gg-z stuck like i was acupuncture

got n-gg-z from the hood, thinkin’ sh-t all good
i’m askin’ all y’all, whatcha come around here for?
got n-gg-z outta town, tryin’ to come and be down
i’m askin’ all y’all, whatcha come around here for?

got n-gg-z online, think they f-ckin’ wit mine
i’m askin’ all y’all, whatcha come around here for?
i’m askin’ all y’all, whatcha come around here for?
i’m askin’ all y’all, whatcha come around here for?

it makes a lot of sense when you see sham in black benz
with high friends pull up the club wit dark tints
never jump out, that’s why they lookin’ dead in my mouth
they must have doubts like who the stars wit no lookouts

you’d be amazed and surprised to who would run in your house
and tag their names on the stomach of your pregnant spouse
i shall leave you wit dat bib from qb
boys in black and foul att-tudes to match

yo, now who you be god, i be the soul controller
i burst gas like the fizz outta your coca cola
live sh-t like the energy of solar
with thug n-gg-z wit names like bullet head and cobra

street n-gg-z be feelin’ the nights gettin’ cold, the rock
bear skin furs like australian polar
hang up on whack b-tches who call the motorola
and smack f-ggots like you don’t make me have to show ya

ramp i’m not talkin’, son, i’m comin out clappin’
all you whack n-gg-z be poppin’ sh-t, y’all n-gg-z actin’
flipmode number 1 squad that make sh-t happen
i’m rippin’ down sh-t while y’all other n-gg-z slackin’

money cats is stocked and locked plus i’m stackin’
them grimy n-gg-z rollin’ with me them n-gg-z packin’
bust 4 in your face, pop 4 in your back and
8 bullets total in all, i’m street trackin’

2 for my block like 10 in the mornin’
squish your organs like swiss scheese whippin’ the arm
and flava blaze i play the corner
wake up your neighbors wit my tape in order to feel my aura

mauziano, i’m like a silver tsar holdin’ golden
metal and though i hold my arm swollen
on the farm belong for soldiers i control
is like they seein’ moses

fendin’ for flows, i pose to split you open
layin’ back rappers for motion
picture me slap on my rappin’ boots

the earth is the globe where i work my magic like merlin unfold
surface enclosure, life worthless, no goals
perfect controls like ayatola’s turbans and robes
from the counties of kings bails, bounties, p-ssie lobbies

50 armies probably bring h-ll on this earth
legend of dirt, smash ghettos and general’s turf
menace incredible work
land lord blaze him and gave him the dirt, hah

- flipmode squad

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