
DJ Kayslay
Census Bureau Lyrics
DJ Kayslay : Census Bureau Lyrics
Songwriters: Holton, De Shaun Dupree; Chavarria, Mike; Johnson, Rufus B; Moore, Ondre C; Porter, Denaun M; Carlisle, Von M;.
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Yeah, we straight from the Census BureauHaha, Runyan Ave
We lookin' for yo' momma
D 12, where yo' momma at?
Miko, where yo' momma at?
Young Zee, hey Dame, where yo' momma at?
I wanna fuck that bitch, her stankin' ass
Hey 'em where yo' momma at? Yo
You know me, Denaun the same ol' nigga
I spray paint your car up like Rain-O nigga
See me and you are sorta like the same I guess
We both rock mics but yours is into our chest
You can't do nuttin' to me, Runyan Ave's unruly
And truly this ain't a movie, you get slapped with the tooly
So pass the slimmy and the Hennessy, I got the energy
To steal every car in this vicinity, you feelin' me?
Take it back to when Das EFX was sayin niggity-wiggity-wild
Piggity-pow, nigga be out
You don't really want war, I'm chillin' at your door
This uzi will have you bloody windmill-ing on the floor
I can't be a punk, my daddy wasn't none
I lose a fight after school and I came home and got one
You reap what you sow, that shit you oughta know
I keep it on the flo' under the seat, I ain't a hoe
You know it's been a while but we feelin' it now
The rough sound muh'fucker, niggaz killin' it now
Goddamn, you don't want no problems B
Get your name in the obituary column sheet
It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again
Yo yo, you fallin' off, goin' back to smokin' crack again
Hit the weed, guzzle your Corona, pass the Gin
Better duck 'cause they back bustin' gats again
A basket case indeed, stronger than a can of mace
Slap you in the face while you patty-cakin' witcha seed
I'll be makin' all these niggaz wanna take a beam
And put it right on my head
You don't be takin' heed, you probably idol the Feds
Havin' meetings to recite what I said
Liable to have you in a medical room
Walk in that bitch with a cell phone then turn it on
Got a chrome that be fuckin' up shit worse than I
You would swear that I'm a Gemini
I kill a guy for nothin', eye to eye
And I ain't gotta touch them niggaz face soon as I say somethin'
Got a pump that'll tear your arm quick, when I leave a carcass
You would think you in Death Row's office
I'm ill enough to fall in the middle of moshpits
Survive and I'm gettin' up high without a flaw bitch
You know it's been a while but we feelin' it now
The rough sound muh'fucker, niggaz killin' it now
Goddamn, you don't want no problems B
Get your name in the obituary column sheet
It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again
Yo yo, you fallin' off, goin' back to smokin' crack again
Hit the weed, guzzle your Corona, pass the Gin
Better duck 'cause they back bustin' gats again
I'm a dog on the mic that'll brawl out with Christ
Get to cappin' at your captain 'til he fall outta life
I'm all outta nice, nigga tuck your chain
Put holes in your head and finger-fuck your brain
Fool fuck this game, I'm poppin' at coach
Momma dropped me on my head and knew that somethin' was broke
I ain't feelin' nothin' you wrote so I'm stompin' your throat
Show up at the hospital and start punchin' your folks
I'm a uzi with arms and legs
Duty calm your man, before my tooly bomb his head
You wanna take what my 40-cal since you bitch-made
Spittin' the right game so yo' ass can get laid
The fuck down, I don't give a fuck now, whassup?
Talkin' 'bout "Clappin'", quit actin', you barely bust nuts
Don't get it twisted at the gates, the name is Proof
And I'ma kill every man that came with you
Yeah, yeah, knock knock, guess who showed up?
44-mag and tear your whole door up
Pink shower cap and yellow drawers
My dick's so small, I can pee on my own balls
When it comes to pussy, Bizarre goes to work
That's why my mouth smell like hot dogs and yellow Persh
So tell your momma hit me on my cell phone
I ain't home, I'm so wet gettin' stoned with Norah Jones
You know it's been a while but we feelin' it now
The rough sound muh'fucker, niggaz killin' it now
Goddamn, you don't want no problems B
Get your name in the obituary column sheet
It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again
Yo yo, you fallin' off, goin' back to smokin' crack again
Hit the weed, guzzle your Corona, pass the Gin
Better duck 'cause they back bustin' gats again
Yo, I chuck niggaz daily, a six-man crew that's born crazy
A triple O.G. like Tray Deee
I stay sparkin', bitch I got a attitude
I step on your shoes and won't say pardon, be cautious
Hidin' from the one-time, nutty as I wanna be
Wild and disorderly, pissin' on your toilet seat
Nigga now you know it's me, I got a .44 wit me
Bitches all over me, sayin' yes like Floetry
Homie you wanna be a G? Go toe-to-toe wit me
It ain't no hoe in me dawg, I shoot out where your colons be
Wave the people-mover, crowd-controller
Rob niggaz 'til my pockets look greener than Yoda
And you know that I'm the shady type, the crazy type
That's probably why promoters never pay me right
We a bunch of hooligans, my hands is on the tool again
I'm 'bout to bust a Huey and spray up a fuckin' school again
You know it's been a while but we feelin' it now
The rough sound muh'fucker, niggaz killin' it now
Goddamn, you don't want no problems B
Get your name in the obituary column sheet
It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again
Yo yo, you fallin' off, goin' back to smokin' crack again
Hit the weed, guzzle your Corona, pass the Gin
Better duck 'cause they back bustin' gats again
Yeah, D 12
Devil's Night, part two
The drama continues
KaySlay
.
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© EMI BLACKWOOD MUSIC INC.; RUNYON AVENUE MUSIC; SWIFTY MC VAY; MCVEY MUSIC; IDIOTIC BIZ; DERTY WERKS; EMI APRIL MUSIC INC.;
Featuring: D-12 Lyrics
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