Bishop Lamont - Got Dat Bang Lyrics
I had a dream about me dreamin’ that I woke upI had a dream about us dreamin’ and we woke upI had a dream about us dreamin’ and we woke upThe world woke up, get your work upYup I’m going in, this will cost you cold tenIt’s been exhaustin on the journey avoidin’ the coffinFinally I’mma winBut once you win could be gone with the windNo telling when so I always got an encore like WinNever been a fan to drop this shit just for the hell of itNigga I’m the truth, I forever stay relevantDon’t keep up with the Jones’, nor the KardashiansJim’s a scratch nigga, I give a ***** about the fashionYou and Mr Charles have read the chaws of takeoutLaugh at you niggas on me, give you takeoutI’m nice man, I’m Tyson before the wife-o start to like himI mean my main agreement a lie, gon shoot me now some VicodinYo plastic wrap is not even worth recyclin’I often dream of Alicia Keys, Cezarine DikinThink that you can do what I do how I do what I doesBut you can’t and you still wishin you couldEngine no. 9, niggas jet I’m feelin’ finePretty swell, sick as ever, fly as hell how I get itThey probly struggling and jugglin, regurgitatin a bunch of lame shitNot me ah ah, I got the pain***** turn me up until you almost blow your systemHands 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 RogersLine for line ahead of my timeI guess that makes me a premieI’ve been right, never walkin about when you see meMarket type is both Bane and the dark knightMy excise precise I put a slice through your wind pipeNo hype, I’m really that *****in’ illYou in shock like watchin’ MTV and plug loadin hellRebel swell, I raise hell, I’ll start a riotBuy a bunch of bath salts and get them little kids to try itI’m ignorant, belligerent and overly too confidentCongerian Jameson until I start to vomitI dry heave, I might bleed but I’m right back drinkinI know you like what the ***** is he thinkinThink that you can do what I do how I do what I doesBut you can’t and you still wishin you couldEngine no. 9, niggas jet I’m feelin’ finePretty swell, sick as ever, fly as hell how I get itThey probly struggling and jugglin, regurgitatin a bunch of lame shitNot me ah ah, I got the pain***** turn me up until you almost blow your systemHands 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 usWe ain’t even tryna hear that shit from youThe next song better be hard mother*****erOh yea, know what I mean?We got some tortillas coming at yaDig that?
