Come On lyrics

Artist  : Dj Clue 
Song : Come On



 Send "Come On" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

featuring Boot Camp Clik

[Rock]
Come on
(BCC)
Come on (MFC)
Come on (BCC)
Come on
(YEAH!)
Aiyyo Rock Rock Rock
Everybody say
Rock not Lou from suburbs to PJ's
So watch ya
hootchie groupies get dudes beat up
Or heat is
leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece
stuck
See me on the streets 'bra I'll break
yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper
Two piece
your man and let Big Noc put him in a
sleeper
Then see ya, catch me in a club on a
wall
Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin
on my balls
Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or
two times ten
Plus the other nine cats, my
Rapper Card got in (Your Rapper Card?)
Yeah my
Rapper Card, it works in live sessions
Plus
barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots
ecetera

[Buckshot]
Buckshot rock knots
wit fists
Niggas stay high while I rock wit
this
Mobb on y'all niggas like The
Infamous
Too close wit the dillinger, two
shots I don't miss
I'm wiggin out while I'm
diggin out backs
Run from the gun claps, run
three laps
Perhaps, them niggas you sent to
carjack
Buckshot got stopped in they tracks
wit macs
Now this is what I act like when I
smoke on black
Stay high wit the lazy-eye,
bomb wit facts
>From the, street Bible or the
street Quran
Fake thugs ride the dick when my
shit comes on
I'm a nappy little nigga, still
goin strong
You can eat a dick while I eat a
thong (CLUE!)
But still the
bomb

[Tek]
It's the wave-king, rock the
two tone Wallees strip-ons
Don't wanna end up
miss-on, then play your positi-on
My grimy
Brooklyn niggas stay flippin ya chick
While my
crew from New Jerus stay vickin ya whips
Tek is
the shit, ain't nobody spittin like this
Deep
impact steez been like a chromed out six
Wit
the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip
Y'all
stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick
I keep
the livin quarter held down wit two nines
One
in the bed, one in the bathroom at all
times
So while I'm takin a shit, I'm at route
and plan a hit
The amount we flip depends on
what we get
It's like a Wall Street trick,
dirty money move quick
My mans wear stones you
can tip the scales wit
On they ears and wrists
alone for every deaf one's bone
Look, ain't no
tellin how many gats I've thrown

[Rock]
(Steele)
Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin
wild)
Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on
the prowl)
Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers
on the streets)
Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to
eat)

[Lidu Rock]
Yo the set I claim is
the set that bang
To the muthafuckin end, I be
doin my thing (YEAH!)
Lidu Rock, know the name
in New York we G stackin
First the Bloods and
the Crips, now bitches is carjackin
Like my
nigga Craig and em say, "Fuck that
shit!"
Rockin shines in the 'Ville, you better
tuck that shit
Or watch yo' step baby, watch
where you walk
I put a slug up in yo' mouth so
that ass won't talk
For real son, now we got
mad cops on the block
Cuz we hold it down for
Doc and I keep my heat cocked
Lidu Rock, what
the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me
So if
you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me,
muthafucker

[Ruck]
You a many style
copy-cat, ?bendy mile? stockin cap
Fake nigga
from the projects who ain't got a gat
Ruck
reign supreme, aim the steam
When the gun
click, your ass shit navy beans
Maybe these,
niggas ain't ready for the Magnum
Force, the
Holocaust, balls I just dragged them
Off lost
in the sauce and of course I'm glad
them
Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck cuz
they fags, son
The last one, to step to Sean P
caught a bad one
Quincy toes tagged em after
somebody stabbed em
Cornball niggas wit drugs
thinkin they weight great
Still bummin money
for stoges and a Drakes
cake

[Steele]
Get it straight, y'all
niggas fuckin wit some heavyweights
Boot
Camp-ion champions on point like paper
mates
Demonstrate, spectacular
venacular
Smackin ya upside the back of ya
head wit a spatula
Snatchin ya, off the street
like police
Next week, they find your body
washin up on the beach
Don't speak if you
ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say
fool)
Tally on, be gone, as we rally
strong
See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be
armed
Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial
suites
Callin your troops, I shoot straight
stay in ya place
We the type you love to hate
cuz we stay in your face
Sayin our grace
before we put our hands in our
plates
Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like
fillet
My mind spray like a murderer's nine
spray
The crime way, get mine three-hundred
sixty-five day

[DJ Clue]
DJ Clue, The
Professional
Part One, you know how we do
it
Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie
Brasco
My nigga B.I.G. word up
And we out,
till next time
For all parties Big Skane
800-570-3657
Aight then