Bumpy Bring it Home lyrics

Ayo, turn the, turn the music up some more
In the headphones for me
Check it out [c'mon!]
You ready, it's Bumpy Knuckles baby
Sendin this out to my n*ggas
All them hardcore street corner, wilders
Ha, ha, Freddie Foxxx baby
That's right, Diamond D baby

[Verse 1]
Whoever thought that I'd be Mr. lyrical flows nice
Like sunsets on the Rio Grande
Pointing at the sisters checkin out their can can
My lyrical ability keeps them real n*ggas
That listen to hip hop feelin me
I keep it underground, sounds'll bump China
Even in Japan they know, I'm the otoko
Spit at me verse, like it's my last one
Slow ones, fast ones, I blast past them slow gas ones
See, I don't think no n*gga's nicer than me
I'm not conceited, that's how I read it, these n*ggas need it
I dissect your verses like science class frogs
I see your rap records is swine, like hogs
Now cipher, that's like turnin down Janet for Michelle Pfeiffer
See Freddie Foxxx ain't wit that
My sh*t is hotter than cayenne pepper, the mic wrecker
The lethal weapon, I keep you high steppin
It's not my fault that n*ggas listen to me
And wanna rob sh*t, cuz I do my motherf*ckin job kid
If you a thug then you recognize what you see before you
Eyes and ears said Freddie Foxxx is here
I been layin it, doin it, sayin it
Rollin by my motherf*ckin self with my burner c*cked slayin it
And I ain't seen nothing that could make me believe
There's a n*gga rappin liver than me, you feel me
[HOOK 2X: Billy Danze]
You in a class of your own, Bumpy's in the zone
Leave Bumpy alone! Bumpy get it on
Bumpy spit chrome, Bumpy hold a throne
Now, Bumpy bring it home!

[Verse 2]
I wore Rolex watches and alligator shoes
When n*ggas thought devil jeans was the big news
I had fifty miles on my brand new Benz in '89
When you wanted me to critique your rhyme
It just was all right
n*ggas brought rappers to me, for approval
Now I give you sixteen bars, for removal
I punch you in your temple make you stagger like Yeltsin
Over hand right to the brain is what you felt son
Then I take off my belt son
Show you what a whippin is, what a true real mic rippin is
See, fake n*ggas can't make it hard for real n*ggas cuz
There's no defense for the truth so what the deal n*gga
No matter who tell it, real n*ggas always prevail
Just like a fake n*gga always fail
n*ggas livin in a fairy tale, until they get beef
Then he want peace, b*tch, you just a rap pus*y
You comin just a lyrical lunatic
I make it blacker than midnight at 12 O'Clock noon and sh*t
I keep rollin like the black Navi with them Micky Thompsons
Halogen lights, I keep my flow tight
The new Bumpy sh*t is like the new Jordans when they come out
Got emcees rappin wit they gun out
Memorize lyrics and I spit 'em to the needy
Send love to my n*gga Tweety, and can you feel me
[HOOK]

[Verse 3]
I'm to the mic what stick up kids is to dark alleys
What Slick Rick is to Bally's
What played out NY n*ggas is to Cali
Runnin from the ill sh*t
I do what record labels don't like, the real sh*t
Money is energy, I'm hyped up
Step on stage with that bullsh*t, get hand wiped up
I be up in your crib, with my two black sigs in your ribs
Takin everything you got to give
The black Robin Hood I rock for n*ggas that can't afford Rolies
Ridin around and in tagged up stolies
I keep the truth like the Holy Qu'ran
Here's a game plan, ambush, best attack, hit off my man
I make you n*ggas listen to some lyrical sh*t
Some miracle sh*t, some empirical sh*t
Now I'm in flipmode, I got my gun in your brain
And make you run you ch ch ch cha ch ch ch cha chain
Bumpy plays no games, it's all real here
Can't get my gun in the club, I keep it real near
I'm harder than a bulletproof vest wrapped around a steel pole
Six shots all through your body like real soul
James Brown or the Meters
I'm gunnin for you no talent rap style eaters
When Diamond D blessed me I had to come rugged
Or unplug it, only true thugs can thug sh*t
[HOOK]