BISHOP LAMONT - Got Dat Bang lyrics

rate me

Bishop Lamont - Got Dat Bang

I had a dream about me dreamin’ that I woke up

I had a dream about us dreamin’ and we woke up

I had a dream about us dreamin’ and we woke up

The world woke up, get your work up

Yup I’m going in, this will cost you cold ten

It’s been exhaustin on the journey avoidin’ the coffin

Finally I’mma win

But once you win could be gone with the wind

No telling when so I always got an encore like Win

Never been a fan to drop this shit just for the hell of it

Nigga I’m the truth, I forever stay relevant

Don’t keep up with the Jones’, nor the Kardashians

Jim’s a scratch nigga, I give a ***** about the fashion

You and Mr Charles have read the chaws of takeout

Laugh at you niggas on me, give you takeout

I’m nice man, I’m Tyson before the wife-o start to like him

I mean my main agreement a lie, gon shoot me now some Vicodin

Yo plastic wrap is not even worth recyclin’

I often dream of Alicia Keys, Cezarine Dikin

Think that you can do what I do how I do what I does

But you can’t and you still wishin you could

Engine no. 9, niggas jet I’m feelin’ fine

Pretty swell, sick as ever, fly as hell how I get it

They probly struggling and jugglin, regurgitatin a bunch of lame shit

Not me ah ah, I got the pain

***** turn me up until you almost blow your system

Hands up, hands up, see what y’all been missin’?

Nigga I’m a G like you see in masonic lodges

***** you rapper Rogers, hold me up Benk Bunk Rogers

Line for line ahead of my time

I guess that makes me a premie

I’ve been right, never walkin about when you see me

Market type is both Bane and the dark knight

My excise precise I put a slice through your wind pipe

No hype, I’m really that *****in’ ill

You in shock like watchin’ MTV and plug loadin hell

Rebel swell, I raise hell, I’ll start a riot

Buy a bunch of bath salts and get them little kids to try it

I’m ignorant, belligerent and overly too confident

Congerian Jameson until I start to vomit

I dry heave, I might bleed but I’m right back drinkin

I know you like what the ***** is he thinkin

Think that you can do what I do how I do what I does

But you can’t and you still wishin you could

Engine no. 9, niggas jet I’m feelin’ fine

Pretty swell, sick as ever, fly as hell how I get it

They probly struggling and jugglin, regurgitatin a bunch of lame shit

Not me ah ah, I got the pain

***** turn me up until you almost blow your system

Hands up, hands up, see what y’all been missin’?

Aye Bishop why you tryna act like you’re just a smooth boy on some smooth shit?

You know you a spam enchilada eatin’ pork chop sauce jerkin chicken, finger lickin’, purple drink drinkin’ mother*****er like the rest of us

We ain’t even tryna hear that shit from you

The next song better be hard mother*****er

Oh yea, know what I mean?

We got some tortillas coming at ya

Dig that?