PA n*gga lyrics

by

Kurtis Blow


[Verse One: Bun B]
Man, I been feelin' caged in
They try to stop us, shackle us, and drop us
Tackle us, sack us, no propers, just smack us
Flop us, protract us, ho-hoppers attack us
For practice, no actors just coppers with choppers
With randoms and RICOs, With cameras and peep holes
Can't stand us, we chose the scandalous, who planned this your peoples?
f*ck that you hero bucked at by weevils, and muskrats to seagulls
Touch that to bank rolls and c-notes to stank hoes and beagles
Drank folks, clay folks, gay folks now we ghost, we host
Moving star requires movin' ours, never mind my appearance
Need assurance for your clearance?
b*tch, I roll with guns for endurance not endearment, n*gga this ain't Mommie Dearest
It's the loudest and the clearest, the closest and the freshest
This is that underground sh*t from Port Arthur, Texas

[Hook: Bun B]
I'm a PA n*gga, trill ass n*gga, how the f*ck you figure you can buck me down n*gga?
I don't f*ck around n*gga from that underground n*gga
Keep a bad yellow b*tch that can suck me down n*gga
I'm a PA n*gga, trill ass n*gga, how the f*ck you figure you can buck me down n*gga?
I don't f*ck around n*gga from that underground n*gga
Keep Nak' up in my sh*t so my trunk can pound n*gga, what?

[Verse Two: Pimp C]
I'm a big body flipper, syrup sipper
I keep two b*tches so they call me Jack Tripper
Three years coming it, four as a rider
Only room for one di*k, b*tch, when I'm knocking you down
Got that dope by the pound, red Jag on the ground
You can hear when I'm comin' because I'm bangin' surround
And I'm getting my paper, so b*tch f*ck what you heard
My n*ggas ready to hit it they just wait for the word
Sell pipes and birds, water and herb, but not on the corner because I wholesale serve
When I'm ridin' the city, my car might swerve
My vision be blurred, but I don't hit the curb
I got rich in the ghetto with my microphone
Everything I drive got wood and chrome
Ever since "Big Pimpin" I've been seeing the clones
Now everybody on they video doing a Sweet Jones
[Hook]

[Verse Three: Bun B]
We runnin' through this rap game at break-neck speed, break necks bleed
Blocks like, "b*tch please, your Lex keys."
Your checks freeze, your bank account shut down over seas
And both of these and toke of these while blowin' trees with Clover G's
Move over please, make room for elbows we cell phones we sell those for
Felons in jail clothes, icky sticky like Velcro dipped in rubber cement
We meant tied up in scotch tape, now watch fate take it up a notch
Wait, a hot date? Baddest boppers under the sun, get blunted with Bun
This summer we shun all inhibitions
No wonder we gonna watch a stunna become a livin' landmark
Hands spark like (?) leave your plans dark
Merc it, missed it, f*ck who dissed it
Diss me, can't miss me, just can't relate b*tch, this my history date
No, driven for this we wait, 'till eternity eternally burning
Quote my destiny child you're learning it?

[Hook]
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