The Beatnuts

The Beatnuts - My Music lyrics

rate me

(feat. Armaretta, Problemz)

(Whats that)

[Psycho Les]

Some incredible shit, some incredible shit uhh

Twist that baby up in here

[Armaretta]

'Ey yo Big Psych

[Psycho Les]

what up, what up mami

[Armaretta]

get on the mic and rock the M.I.C.

[Psycho Les]

Light a hell up, puff to my eyes swell up

when it comes to the green we got hell up

(My music bang, from here to releswelup (?) )

bang you with the music, or bang you accapella

like my shorty ran up, said get the cheddar

I'm making to much I'm getting hated by the tela

I'm making so much I'm getting customized leather

brand new shoes, twenty-twos and better

so I pass those talking birds like berreta

heavy rotation like a propeller

every station saying this is something you never

never heard before

so crank it up and hit the art-core

(art-core) (art-core) (art-core) (art-core)

yo, yo next up

[Armaretta]

yo I believe that's me

[Psycho Les]

Armaretta, Rock the M.I.C.

[Armaretta]

Invisible being gangster on the game

if this about hottest bitch then you know my name

see me in the street better bring the theme

Brooklyn representitive, the road to fame

I sit back, laid back thinking 'bout all my gats spittin'

host to your cat man, as long being tapped man

in the club my niggaz never left me

go be getting out with knives cuz security ain't checking

thread me stupid better think twice

he don't know how I get when I'm in the bar nice

hot licks no ice, everything look right

here dun hold tight I dig hopping ass hoes man as

build and see life's about getting paid

about getting laid, at the hard getting sprayed

BK build up, white fox silled up

you expect us to live

six hundred a crib

now who's next

[Problemz]

Yo I believe that's me

passing the tree to Armaretta ripping it constantly

I specialize in distributing raw sixteens, tokem faries

sending emcees out the frame

like pigeons of my x-game

intoxicated demon over skeemon

only hit the key to club jumping

niggaz in there trucks dumping

mammis look that jump and then they truck humping

jumping in my whip

all on my dick

it's flash booties like watertheme amusement

jump on her producers

hit the exit, the tunes is dumb soft

my lungs cough

opens allergies and metaphoric

parafurnelly or lyrically taking care of you

who else could it be, but that nigga named Problemz

alias capping camons with the flif up in your feelings

be easy and fall back like an extra

and don't be extra, or catch extras

and see your extra large fitted

whenever I spit it automaticly

and quit it problemo, fowl pass me the demo's

next up

(Work that shit, that shit baby

Problemoz, Armaretta, Big Psych

Bounce, just bounce, come on bounce

that's my music, that's my music

come on that's my music

hip hop – that's my music)

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