Lyrics
Public Enemy
Time is gettin' crazy, people clockin' out
They're robbin' all the cribs on a death wish route
Breakin' into cars trying to steal their system
20 pounds on the bar, betcha can't lift 'em
Ya throw two punches, now you got no wind
Hittin' mega pipes, gettin' super stupid thin
Crying all the tears, smokin' all the squares
Workin' for ya boy, ya came short and full of swears
Ya couldn't make the money cause ya smoked up the product
Walkin' round the town, skeptalepsy illaroduct
Can't be trusted cause you're living in the past
Ya should have kept yo ass away from that blast
MEGABLAST!
I got a homeboy who is out on the block
He sells mo crack that they sell fish at the dock
He runs to every car, thinkin' he's a star
He gets his product snatched by some people in a car
The car pulls off, he hung onto the side
Of the car that is in motion, guess his product took a ride
He tried to sell a dime for a thirty dollar bill
Fake gold plate on the back, no frill
Fake Hawaiian suit, scratched up knees
In his fridgerator, bread, water, cheese
Antique fork, how long will it last?
We'll see in twelve minutes when he wants the blast
Written by RIDENHOUR, CARLTON / DRAYTON, WILLIAM JONATHAN / BOXLEY III, JAMES HENRY
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.
Time is gettin' crazy, people clockin' out
They're robbin' all the cribs on a death wish route
Breakin' into cars trying to steal their system
20 pounds on the bar, betcha can't lift 'em
Ya throw two punches, now you got no wind
Hittin' mega pipes, gettin' super stupid thin
Crying all the tears, smokin' all the squares
Workin' for ya boy, ya came short and full of swears
Ya couldn't make the money cause ya smoked up the product
Walkin' round the town, skeptalepsy illaroduct
Can't be trusted cause you're living in the past
Ya should have kept yo ass away from that blast
MEGABLAST!
I got a homeboy who is out on the block
He sells mo crack that they sell fish at the dock
He runs to every car, thinkin' he's a star
He gets his product snatched by some people in a car
The car pulls off, he hung onto the side
Of the car that is in motion, guess his product took a ride
He tried to sell a dime for a thirty dollar bill
Fake gold plate on the back, no frill
Fake Hawaiian suit, scratched up knees
In his fridgerator, bread, water, cheese
Antique fork, how long will it last?
We'll see in twelve minutes when he wants the blast
Written by RIDENHOUR, CARLTON / DRAYTON, WILLIAM JONATHAN / BOXLEY III, JAMES HENRY
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.