Bubba Sparxxx - If It's Bumpin lyrics

rate me

(feat. Bo Hagin, Kosha (Stonewall))

[Bubba Sparxxx]

I drop the verses y'all don't deliver

Take the chances y'all won't consider

Got a loyal broad named Betty who

know what to do with that chrome I give her

I'm on the shitter

thinkin bout my bank account and how to make it bigger

Then I grab the tool and take your jewels

and I'ma watch this blew the same as Jigga's

It ain't the liquor I'm really sick, smokin Shwag eatin Crystal chicks

On a rollercoaster with Bo and Kosha

Can't even fuck witch'all pencil dicks

Ain't this some shit?

Every time we step inside the club y'all tryna guess

which one of us gon' snatch your bitch

and leave you strokin all by yourself

Understand this Bubba Sparxxx, S-P-A-R-triple X

I sprinkle soul in your pussy hole

and put some coal on your nipple and neck

Tell your man, if he flex it's gettin drastic, legend has it

I know this mob spell G-A and with no delay they'll let him have it

It's just a habit, reppin Athens and LaGrange, it's in my veins

I'm mixin Beam with Coke and (?), and every time it's still just the same

I tend to aim towards spittin thangs, it's classical so masterful

When it comes to this here make the shit clear

Heard to y'all comes natural

[Chorus]

We make these lames wanna fight, make these bitches wanna fuck

Drink Bourbon in a cup, if it's bumpin turn it up

We gon' weave, we gon' roll, watch the Franklin faces fold

Chasin multi-platinum plaques while y'all settlin for dough

Drop that liquid on yo' tongue, put that reefer in your lungs

Close the curtains here we come, boy hush until I'm done

We gon' drink, we gon' smoke, keep that floss on they toes

When these broads start some lickin, we just might end up with yours

[Kosha]

Step in the club it's on

Nevertheless gonna find the somebody I could sip on

A seat with a view in the V.I.P., and got two tight things to grip on

A bag of trees to put my lip on - gotta cut it, roll it, light it, pass

And me and Bubba gettin crunk in the club

with a tape full of Bud in a champagne glass

Puttin it down for the B.C., in the backwoods where we be

Better call a producer when you see me

and get your ass right back in the GT

Y'all lame boys, hangin up lookin just for a name boy

Goin upsize with the Gameboy

Witcho' mind right go out lookin for a cane boy, it's a shame boy

You the main one tryna stall right, sold the broads out the game boy

I beat 'em down like chop chop chop

Yessuh, cut 'em up and leave 'em alone

On my cell phone they callin, talkin 'bout "Kosha baby, call me"

Leave your name and your number at the sound of the beep

and I'll get back witcha shawty

Most hated by baby daddies for breakin up happy homes

When the men is on and she don't say no then that mean she wanna bone

So partna don't get me wrong, I'm just bein Kosha

That Southern playa with a stroke that keep 'em wet like a ocean

Yessuh, me and Bubba get rowdy (rowdy)

And me and Bubba get bout it (bout it)

We are violators we annihilate you, no ifs ands buts about it

The air up here stay cloudy, I originate in shotcallin

We stay up in the club y'all look at us

and say, "Damn, them boys be ballin"

[Chorus]

[Bo Hagin]

Whassup fuck nigga, man you know who you is (you know)

You the ones be payin hoes and buyin them gifts (trick ass)

You mad when you find out some other niggaz get it

Ain't payin no bills just stayin real and still be hittin it

I'm a old school playa I just pay for her dinner

Maybe buy a little liquor - I spend some talk in the mirror

This the playa from the soul; love to gang up on hoes

I'm tryna let this pimp shit go cause I don't even like it no mo'

See these niggaz that I hang with they just run through these skanks

Talk about 'em over dinner, pass women like dank

[Interlude: Bubba]

Mmm-hmm, and I'ma put twenty-five

on the them ol' fire ass Mercedes Rolls

that don't never come 'round no mo' that shit right dere

Country-ass Bubba Sparxxx, ain't no fuckin around wit G.O. again

That put me in this backwoods committee

My ace Kosha, Bo Hagin, west central Georgia's finest

Man Bo, go on snap again

[Bo Hagin]

Man, I'm gon' tell it like it is, I'm gon' sit the rear

I stand true to high live, this a quest for a mil'

It done took a nigga different places, seen plenty of faces

Whatever may have been the cases I thank God for his graces

See my knife'll tell the fakers, kept me spinnin like breakers

And every day I play awake a nigga learnin by haters

See I take a ho, and shake a ho, that's how we live

All women ain't bitches but see most of them is, uhh

[Chorus x2]