Gp Wu - Smoking Lyrics
A lot of cats thought the g.p. shit wouldnt make itJune luva (smokin)Pop brown hornet (smokin)Rubber to the bands (smokin)Down low...(g.p. forever more baby)June luva (smokin)Pop brown hornet (smokin)Rubber to the bands (smokin)Down low (smokin)[june luva]Yo crews I been through with my ginsuI be choppin em, the gap below aint no stoppin emI be hoppin em, over the fences droppin emLeaping fylin kick on some shaolin shitGet in your stance and defend your squareIf your skills is not equipped were sendin that ass up outta hereIndeed no question in this professionWhen g.p.s in your area its a blessinKeep em guessin what the hell is they up toIs they finished? nigga we barely begun toBreak em down and claim soil in this industryBefore Im gone mutha*****as will remember meCheck my pedigree, substantial amount of evidenceBody and fools from presidentsMy residence is stapleton, staten isleB/k/a better known as the shao[pop the brown hornet]When it be the big dipper I beg to differApproach like you want it and get put into a back twisterFlunkee, little monkeyAll that garbage you be talkin I know you gots to be a junkieCause I aint feelin out one joints you madeEverytime you rhyme with the next cat youre gettin slayedYour styles played but you still keep sportin itPut a cork in it, dust it off and auction itGet what you can for it fore its too lateYou dont want the world to find out the shits gold platedAnd outdated, I know youre glad you made it when you made itCause you styles only gettin fadedWhile I maintain mint conditionYou got your eyes on the star wishin you could plead half my missionIts all good tho, youre not an all-proYou know youre gettin over with a styles thats so soAnd while Im all that you be gettin left backAnd laughed at like a fat girls ass crack[rubberbands]Murder I write cause wrote is past tenseLeavin featherweight mcs in suspenseCause in my division we dealin with ammunitionLyrically cuttin niggas down like treesYou think you got me under pressure cause you whylinYou scare me just as much as the haunted house on coney islandThey used to say you was soft and smilinBut all that shit stopped once protect ya neck droppedHip hop terrorists on the riseThe grain click will take the industry by surpriseThere is no stoppin what is meant, leavin competition bent likeTwo match-ups in an accident, head on collisionSpokin like a geo prismAnd if you didnt see us comin I suggest you check your visionYoure on point at a arrange for correctionLike bringin a homeboy hookup outta state, theres no connection[down low recka]G.p. not the greatest but we famousFor committin the crime and tracks that be hittinBut niggas cant maintain this, we stain thisWith the blood from a real nigga who be namelessCheck me, got the ill stee undercoverMore current, holdin on the green like a rubberCause I be not a carbon copy or sloppyWatch me, even stop me but never got meStill got niggas on this block, its hecticIts winter, stapleton go all out and enterMy chamber, danger, no turnin back36 physical hits, ill mental tricksCome mad thickNobody know to have to explain thisPredict the competition got a style thats brainlessSo I crush your tower with stories by the hourG.p. who? put the power in the powerRewind, come against the selectorThe grain remain self-contained in any sector, whatIf you representin the east keep (smokin)If you representin the west keep (smokin)If you recognizin the grain be (smokin)Then you representin the best g (smokin)Down low (smokin)Rubber to the bands (smokin)June luva (smokin)Pop brown hornet (smokin)
