Yo man
Brother Madness Style, c'mon, let's let's do this shit
Motherf*ckers done rolled on 'em
Nah nah it wasn't the gangsters man
It was, it was them motherf*ckers, yeah (who was it?)
(yeah, right right) Them motherf*ckers, (??)
(Shoot them motherf*ckers man!)
Yo yo, yo Create man, you got the strap?
Rex T man, pop in the clip
Give, give me the gun man
Give me the gun that motherf*cker is slippin
One-eighty-seven
[RBX]
F*ck it! I gotta do this quick
I grab my glock seventeen, the clip went click
Dat-da-da-dot-da tec, perfect
So I keep on I - pop him and drop him
That oughta stop him from comin up blocks
Dead in his tracks from stacks of facts
Relax! I'm about to take my respect
I lower, and aim straight for his f*ckin neck
Boo-yaa boo-yaa then I fade into the wind
Hiden by the night, reflected by moon
Soon comes the wrath of blacks actual facts
Pistol cracks..
RBX - BMS On The Attack Lyrics
RBX - BMS On The Attack Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Yo man
Brother Madness Style, c'mon, let's let's do this shit
Motherf*ckers done rolled on 'em
Nah nah it wasn't the gangsters man
It was, it was them motherf*ckers, yeah (who was it?)
(yeah, right right) Them motherf*ckers, (??)
(Shoot them motherf*ckers man!)
Yo yo, yo Create man, you got the strap?
Rex T man, pop in the clip
Give, give me the gun man
Give me the gun that motherf*cker is slippin
One-eighty-seven
[RBX]
F*ck it! I gotta do this quick
I grab my glock seventeen, the clip went click
Dat-da-da-dot-da tec, perfect
So I keep on I - pop him and drop him
That oughta stop him from comin up blocks
Dead in his tracks from stacks of facts
Relax! I'm about to take my respect
I lower, and aim straight for his f*ckin neck
Boo-yaa boo-yaa then I fade into the wind
Hiden by the night, reflected by moon
Soon comes the wrath of blacks actual facts
Pistol cracks..
Brother Madness Style, c'mon, let's let's do this shit
Motherf*ckers done rolled on 'em
Nah nah it wasn't the gangsters man
It was, it was them motherf*ckers, yeah (who was it?)
(yeah, right right) Them motherf*ckers, (??)
(Shoot them motherf*ckers man!)
Yo yo, yo Create man, you got the strap?
Rex T man, pop in the clip
Give, give me the gun man
Give me the gun that motherf*cker is slippin
One-eighty-seven
[RBX]
F*ck it! I gotta do this quick
I grab my glock seventeen, the clip went click
Dat-da-da-dot-da tec, perfect
So I keep on I - pop him and drop him
That oughta stop him from comin up blocks
Dead in his tracks from stacks of facts
Relax! I'm about to take my respect
I lower, and aim straight for his f*ckin neck
Boo-yaa boo-yaa then I fade into the wind
Hiden by the night, reflected by moon
Soon comes the wrath of blacks actual facts
Pistol cracks..
Writer: ERIC COLLINS, ERIC DWAYNE COLLINS, GREG ROYAL, GREGORY H. ROYAL
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.