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    The Babys / Lyrics

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    "And If You Could See Me Fly" Lyrics

    The Babys

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    Duration:00:02:45
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    Lyrics

    Yeah, yeah, what the deal Dog?
    Where you from?, BK, NYC, reppin' wid the DPG
    Yeah, what the dealy, yo, yo, yo, yo, LAFC
    Everything else cool, the Wu-Tang is the best
    Dogg Pound's the best

    Mic accurate, trade darts TL, slight tint DL, quick flash
    Smooth as a baby's ass, lyrical addicts, murder mics like a savage
    And MO30, bullet proof tuxedos, transactions, C-notes for the kilos
    'Bout our money, killa bees love the honey, puttin' a sting
    On warriors in the ring, get mashed out initiation face slashed out

    Block dropper, drama action like I won an Oscar
    Eye on me, feds spy on me, it's them cops in the choppers
    That play the roof, ready to snipe, stay bulletproof
    Ease up on the over proof, level head the liable

    And leave ya for dead, fill fulla lead, incidents, classified accidents
    No evidence, po-po innocent crime pays, I guess
    It's the American ways, far from slaves, yet behind bars and cage
    Fair exchange clicked ya bow wid ya 12-guage

    It's time for me to do this shit for all my years hurtin'
    See these other niggas bustin' raps that ain't workin'
    I'm jerkin' the game, heavyweight pocket exchange
    Touch my niggas that's broke and hope them niggas do the same
    Pause, squeeze ya balls wid no draws down for the cause

    And hoes takin' off they draws, y'all, niggas, ain't knowin' the half
    Everywhere I go, feel like I'm runnin' from crash, my intention
    To smash fast plex on elevators
    Sacked a hell a haters crime raider on the fader

    I'm major now, women hit me on my pager
    While I'm puffin' on the Bombay, the Vietnam way
    Pimpin' in a calm way and rule one
    Never let a bitch know where your baby mom's stay

    Now if you see me creepin' through SC
    Just walk on by, nigga, just walk on by
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high

    If you see me in the NYC
    Just walk on by, nigga, just walk on by
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high

    Got the session on lock down, make way for the cocked pound
    Best to give it all you got now fool, for this new era, new order
    New terror, new torture, run up and extort ya, abort ya missions
    Escort physicians to the spot you and I met rep for combat

    Where the bomb at, chop up on that niggas, I been there
    And done that catch a contact by drainin', try trainin'
    Holla when you've perfected ya aimin', ready for a taming
    And catch me at the spot wid this clown gashed up

    Ya found me in his wife face down mashed up, no stoppin' this
    I'm most poppinest, anything to the left of monotonous
    Mister Khopadopalous, blockin' this hold ya down tech potent
    Any nigga second guessin' keep his face opened

    Check it out, got games, crackle, clash of the titans
    Up against the crackin', come to fuck you up, stuck you up
    Niggas bust, niggas lookin' like Kurupt, what the fuck you want?
    All at you motherfucking small fry small guy

    Motherfuckin' small cat, beat wid pipes poles and bats
    Blast wid a small gat, run, and bust till his lungs collapse
    And hit the corner pocket but first strip his pockets
    He shouldn't a got caught in the mixture

    See I'm the type of nigga to pull out the paintbrush
    And the board and the paper and paint a picture
    You shootin' and got shot, we shoot ya, Drex Luthor
    [unverified] Then pull pens to report to zoopers?

    I'm a 6-4 rap, 44 mag calicos and mass, double bags caught cash
    Wid cash on cash dub sacks new blocks
    Baby S, El Drex, Kurupt, Trigga and Short Khop

    When you see me wid the DPG
    Just walk on by, nigga, just walk on by
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high

    And if you see me in the ING
    Just walk on by, nigga, just walk on by
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high

    Yo, yo, verbal seizures, coming from the black Johnny Fever
    You bought your heater turn like Tina when Ike beat her
    We kidnapped ya girl and ain't feed her she's a heavy bleeder
    At this point you realize that you ain't really need her

    Cats that get it betta stand on they pivot
    Life is rigid from the business and pleasure, when you miss it
    Oh well forget it wipe my pinkie ring when you kissed it
    Couldn't keep ya distance, so things was done deliberate

    A G-thing, this cost cash is not a free thing
    When we sing that's when they bring the jealousy thing
    But that alerts me, the low and dirty wanna hurt me
    They equal to the numbers on Robert Paris jersey

    Blood thirsty ten O.Gs in black derbys, we throw things
    I got a arm like Testa Verdy, it's Drex Andretti
    The live lyrical compulsive, betta contact ya physician
    For over dosage, you lost ya focus, realize what you get?

    A little bit of good shit and a lot of bullshit now you wounded
    So you got exactly what you earned
    You gon' fool wid the Drex it's like a tax return

    When I'm in the two-five
    Just walk on by, just walk on by
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high

    If you see me in the NYC
    Just walk on by, nigga, just walk on by
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Before you fuck up my high
    Fuck up my high

    All I wanna say, "Fuck this niggas, man"
    Yo, first of all, after all this is over, we still all go to sleep
    And we still wake up in the morning, so give thanks to God
    'Cause he loves us for real, for real
    This song was submitted on January 25th, 2010 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC.
    Written by Anthony Paul Brock, Michael John Siddons-Corby, Walter Frederick Stocker, John Charles Waite.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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