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LIL JON and THE EAST SIDE BOYZ : Get Crunk (GCWUWDA version) lyrics

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 #

LIL JON and THE EAST SIDE BOYZ lyrics : "Get Crunk (GCWUWDA version)"

Once again up in that south from my mother$#&@ing mouth
and creeping up on y'all ^!$$%s like a mother$#&@ing mouse
Stepping on these tracks like [email protected]$)s and drag queens

And %#@!ting on you busters like I ate some bake beans

Buster me and me's clicks, always making those hits

We never straight jam with no busters our no tricks
Getting in trouble from the sounds of my trunk
and keeping it crunk, keeping it crunk

What, What [in background]

Now drop dem bozs' on 'em [repeat 16X]

^!$$% bozs' bout to turn out the show

Crankin' up yo' dance flo' screaming GA hoe
Flipping rhymes and gripping pines with haters looking round
It's time lay it down putting it all up on the line

Ain't no love for haters, smoking doug's potatoes
All these ^!$$%s what they made us from dem' boz and craters
While lame done dipped out, we gained the flip flop

Underground where we dwell, the hell with hip hop
Southside just reckless, from GA to Texas
And next it's gone be me flexing in a suburban or lexus

But it seem like the bigger I be, mo' figures I see
The mo' hating ^!$$%s try me
Big baby trick crazy thinking he bout' to fade me

Better sit and wait in consequences fo' you feel you can play
From a place called T-town be down in the south

Where dem' players throw dem' boz and gold teeth in they
And dump dump if ya' jump jump

The club crunk off the funk that we bump bump and pump pump
through yo' speaker when it reach ya' now you tweaking like

All the people out there hype as hell, I guess it Lil' Peter
From T-town to Atlanta all the way to Savannah to Alabama
I be damn a club ain't crunk in this manner

I can't stand a weak buster
For all the freaks, hustla's, to the clothes
Y'all gotta get it crunk and drop dem boz, drop dem boz


I can't afford bigger, how ya' figga'
that you gone stop me from stacking six figures
Now you hating on me, because my game so tight

And could you be mad because I $#&@ed ya' wife
Well it's true, that's the price ^!$$% check that hoe
I'm from the ATL player, wear that reckland ro'

So stop talking all that %#@!, and trying to buck
I'm popping off at the mouth, we get cha' $#&@ed up, now what's

Now ladies are you tired of trick (*##$es in yo' mix
Acting like they want, to lick on yo' %#@!

Critizing, everything that you do
and telling ya' who, and who not to screw
Nasty hoes, that ain't clean and %#@!

They go around sucking on every dope boys dick
Now is these hoes really yo' friend or yo' foes
You tell me, while ya' drop dem' bozs'


Now if the club packed y'all from wall to wall
And everybody trying to ball, coz sizing all
Ain't nothing but love in the air, we geeing and macking

Some haters off in there, but at least they ain't macking
You got cha' cup filled up, ya' ^!$$%s is crunk
Put cha' hands in the air represent where ya' from

I'm from the GA baby, where freaks is shady
Man it can be so crazy, so we burn trees daily
When the beat a drop, everybody just lock ya' boz and shake dem'

And proceed to rock, from the front to the back
with the blunts and gats, on the hunt for some cat or a fat $$#
Tear da' roof off the club, show you ^!$$%s some love

and fill a swishe up with bud for my g's and thugs
Now dem' haters keep watching, dem' freaks a jockin'
the beats is rockin', so partner want you keep on dropping
for my thugs


Now right now I want all my hard ^!$$%s to follow me, follow

[Bridge:] what
[until fade]
That's how these mother$#&@ers die, they with the %#@! talk
[repeat 7X]

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