Buckshot - Feel It lyrics

Yo, take a walk through the Terror Dome Instead of duckin' little n***as, gettin' live when they hear the chrome Where them dollars at? What, n***a holla back Is what they screamin', ice gleamin' on Jumanji plaque Here to rat-a-tat-tat, on a regular Money exchangin', rearrangin' on a cellular We do it up in a Benz or a hoop dog Smokin' black, listenin' to Snoop Dogg We them troops dog, that be runnin' up, summin' up ya money block Smack you all up in your funny top, guns co*k In the drop top, headed to the chop shop Gettin' ten grand, 'cause the handle on your lock pop [Chorus: x2] Throw ya hands in the sky if you feelin' this You can roll a bag of la if you feelin' it You can bump it in ya ride, you can park up on the side You can bump to the vibe, if you feelin' this I'm high when I know I'm sweatin', plus I'm gettin' Ready to set like Nino Brown at the wedding You a New Jack, this ain't a City What a pity, I f** around, I have to give you fifty And if I take 49, and you're left with one See the one that jammed in ya ear, made ya deaf son Take ya breath son, nah, here's the oxygen f** it, bring the motherf**in glocks again Throw ya hands up, when I spit six to tear ya man up Now you can't stand up, f**ed your whole plan up Every time the gun jam up, the back slam up Upside ya head, give me my respects Yo, there's nowhere to run, there's nowhere to hide Don't no one survive, the toast on my side, we both gonna die A n***a and his man tried to front, they both in disguise See before Jesus, the only man chosen was I And you can a dream or a nightmare, and I'm right there Standin' over there, wit a bead and a mic there Puff there, Hype there, Russell there, Mike there All them n***as watch me embarra** you, right there From Brook-Nam to Queens, all the way to Yonkers and back Anywhere you go, you see the knights only attack n***as flipped it on they back, enormin' this tracks We bombin' these cats, like U.S. was bombin' Iraq [Chorus: x2] A real hard head makes a real soft a** I thought I told these motherf**as they ain't in our cla** Quick fast, I strip them from they stripes, snatch they thug patch f** that, I make 'em run and get they wife and come back You dumb black, bum raps is what y'all got It'll take a forest fire, just to make ya hot And I ain't got no time for them weak a** rhymes And then, when you spittin' it's three and four at a time Come on now, I hate to be rude and sh** But it's only a chosen few that can do this sh** I thought you knew this sh**, and ran through this sh** But you still sample sh**, and gettin' sued and sh** You know you makin' me sick, like the flu and sh** And stage ya monkey a**, leave the zoo and sh** You see I rule wit sh**, wit any bit I spit That rap crack, you phat, ain't all that and sh** [Chorus: x2]