Facebook
  1. Minhas Letras
  2. N
  3. Naughty By Nature
  4. Klickow Klickow (Letra)

Klickow Klickow (Letra)

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

Intro:
118, cruddy click, naughty by nature, the rottin’ razkals, the road dawgs

1-2-3 i’m up to bat so pitch me an mc so i can get ill
And knock his ass into left field
I’m still a body bruisin’ master
Dat some ole’ evil little bastard get fast and i’ll outcast ya
Like port huh we on some ole’ new shit my click is hip hop it
5-6 we hit cha from the bricks back the fuck up like onyx said
Don’t make me act the fuck up i’m known to have a hot head
Hey call me the mud city mangler the nigger neck yolk tangler
A star spangler boogie banger

Rottin’ razklas
118 on the scene i’m representin’
And if i ain’t punchin’ and thumpin’ i’m stompin’
And kickin” in nigga take a step back
It ain’t even all that nigga catch a cap
If ya don’t wanna brawl jack
Guzzle down a 40 till i’m all full
Take another hit of the dirl with a long pull
I gets blitzed outta proper state of mind
When me and my click searchin’ for trouble to find

No he didn’t but i’ll you

Hook:
I tell you what good with deez some and the how
Cause that’s why i stays with my klickow klickow (x2)

Right out the alleys of cali
Not eh balley straight out the hood is the notorious one
Hitter quitter skull splitter triggers from inglewood

Watch us bring wreck quick
Road dawgs the next kick
Pluggin’ you jugular vein it pour like rain when ya neck whip

235 thick
Ingelwood illtown click

Low hot off the bricks trot off or get shot off in the mix

Boobie and luvchild staying trues paying dues

Madmen with ten millimeter heaters sprayin’ fools
And slaying crews

Who wanna tangle get caught up and dangled yoked and strangle

In a fight straight soldiers swingin’ pipes from every angle

Keep my hand on the nitty glock fifty
Swift with my tool to lift any fool that wanna fuck with me

Don’t sleep on jersey nor california shit is grimmy trim ya limb
Blood and phlegm is all on him after we warn ya
It’s curtains kids certain things we won’t allow
Cause that how we stand with ours klickow klickow

Treach:
Word to the mother my mother was the only checkin’ mines
So motherfuck your mother’s father if he step like mines
Swift kicking cocks i hit spots and blocks
So listen pops then i’ll miss you like i miss measles
Mumps plus fuckin’ chicken pox
Givin’ props to all the old school that paved the way
Plus zero i fear no hero you think will up and save the day hey
Three letters describing that ass here’s a clue
S-c-k the only thing missing is you
Excuse up’s excuse um you’ve yet to lose one two ton
Crews son doing more then leaving bruised gums
Try it riot i’ll roll quiet you’ll never catch the trap
Cause i ain’t the the the that to flap the yap
A black alley cats can catch my back
And to that and these scrap
Back to back wreck to wreck and wreck necks
Of macks fake macks break their necks to say i take that back
You see it used to be a time you rolled with shanks and friends
But nowadays we roll in fuckin’ tanks with rims
That’s how it go that’s how we roll pow!
Cause that’s how i stand with mine klickow klickow

Hook

Gutta nigga and i face finsta the two man cruddy collision
Illtown’s villian that’s wanted for some niggas killin’
Keep my material similar to a serial killer
Peeling cats check my stats ain’t no nigga iller

Now here i go with the klick klacks the tatter rat ta ta tat tats patter
Pat
Pats to better brat packs
I’m airing shit out like dat
Jack it’s judgement day and i’m seenin’ is human beings
Got cha fleein’ word to me mook daddy and little steven

Comin’ straight form the top notch of hip hop
Niggas gather round to the sound that nigga from the gutta not
Kick that slang talk explain why ya can’t walk
It ain’t my fault ya hit a flip and couldn’t sommersault
I’m on a route with my nigga on some new shit
Flowin’ with that music nigga won’t you use it
To your advantage if you could manage the damage
I’m handing when ya get the fuckin’ mic it leave ya hands branded

Ya backwards ass assborn assbackwards
Coming out feet first and getting drugged into this next verse
On the contrary i’m not ya ordinatry adversary
That’s secondary i leave ya floatin’ like a fuckin’ ferry
Advancing my chances and ya retreatin’
From the beatin’ ya seekin’
Fuckin’ with me and feel your fluids leakin’

On time for too much tough talk
Nigga walk and keep walking
Fore i take ya tongue and make you stop talking

I’ll meet ya at death’s gate when a nigga took a step late
Jacked ‘em for his place he set up shot in the next state

Yo zapping all the zip zags not that all the zig zag
Shot ‘em in the stomach now he’s living out a shit bag

Ha ha ha fag couldn’t fuck with a nigga with nine rounds
A rugged cruddy click from the guttas of illtown

This ain’t a rap along clap along song son my shit is on
With more thong then janet with her panties on
Ya best to get it out the way boy
The two slickest to ever kick it now klickow klickow

Hook

Compartilhe!

Klickow-Klickow (Letra)

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

Intro: Vin Rock

(Strike a nerve)
Yo bitch, it was some bitch in a seminar
talkin bout you had to get up early to wax this
(Strike a nerve)
Them other motherfuckers said you couldn’t even wax that dirty bitch
So wassup y’all?
(Strike a nerve)

Verse 1: Treach

I get my daily dose of cha-cha-cha and "Shut the fuck up, ho"
Shit, shaved, and bathed e’ryday then I must go
Ugh, this is Everyday All Day, let’s all say
Pluckin enough and roughin em up and fuckin em up always
Bet, let’s talk about a back flash, ya jackass
That fast you flash witta match, your fast rap
And even though you didn’t know me before the flow solo
It’s no slow way to go, bolos I throw or sold
Let’s pick a bitch to pick with, peekaboo
I see you thru your crew, now whatchu wanna do?
After that, caps off to the black frost
My pants always sag cos I rap my ass off (Oooooh)
You wanna talk about a badboy *?sanchoi?*
I’m bad as they come, chum, straight up ricochet rap style
To Vin Rock and KayGee, I’m the baby
Droppin the ladies, cravin ya maybe, I have the right to be lazy
Got more stretch to my swing and the stretch of a chicken wing
The flavor is bacon and its cravin is icecream
I’m too trucked to be fucked and too live, otherwise
Ya drive by’s smuffler, word to the mother, my brother eyed
Runnin and comin, drama starin wit a stellar
I need so many lumps, I’ll use your head as a braille book
Many friends ships ink, quick, fast
It’ll take a dollar worth of gas to outlast your little tired ass
You tried to swing this way, you little swifty
(Ha ha ha, slum bitches still miss me)
I do the dumpin, humpin, clappin like thunder
and that’s comin from a land down under

Interlude:

Yo, I’m sick of dis shit, man
Niggas tryin to cut, they rocks none (Strike a nerve)
Yo, they tryin to make us drop, Vin Rock sayin he don’t rock enough
Yo kick that shit

Verse 2: Vin Rock

Prepare for the worst, cos I ain’t livin loss
I wouldn’t just give a fuck, cos givin is free and my fuck’s cost
????? your loss in The Source, cos I know no way
I been there before, maybe 5-6 times a day
Sometimes I put my hands on my head when I’m done, from
and wondered to myself where did dat def shit come from?
And then I think about the Naughty and the Nature in it
and then the Flavor then the figures while I’m flowin wit it
So I won’t give up, stop, stall, quit, ya kitten
You can’t touch this, fuck what them throats written
I got tracks, better known as snaps, far forbidden
And the warm do, I know, I know how to make ya feel it
I’ll take a head, I’ll make ya spread and now lay back
I tell you once, I tell you twice, Vinnie don’t play that (You don’t?)
So don’t start, there will be none is the lesson, folks
I hate cigarettes but my Smith & Wessun smokes
]From anywhere, from any corner, anytime that’s right
Who you bashin? I go blast in broad daylight
You stand hard, you look hard, yeah, your figure’s soft
I got nuff props from buckshots that niggas caught
Ya say you can’t go to the takin me out close
Huh, in that case, you shoulda named your album "Almost"
I wouldn’t rely on the try if I was you, yo
Cos I’m turnin tries into "oh oh’s" and "hell no’s"
I wouldn’t be caught dead witchu up in tryin it
And if I was goin, I get my stiff ass up and rip shit
I can’t go out like a wooden sock with padlocks
I’ll leave tacks tiny and slimy like snot spots
I write a day, to me, it’s a common caper
Say so much shit, huh, I write my rhymes on toilet paper

Interlude:

Yeah, Vin Rock, backbone of Naughty By Nature, y’knowI’msayin?
(Strike a nerve)
That’s right, so everybody sleepin on the up, stay off of my dick
(Strike a nerve)
We’re gonna stomp this time around, word up
(Strike a nerve)

Verse 3: Treach, Vin Rock

Look who’s mother’s in the studio, thirty sons and daughters
Mrs. Happy Thing is in the back catchin quarters
Come and try to run wit it, never in a lifetime
Thirty ????? could act at Caesar’s, still I bet I get mine
I heard your girl’s havin a baby, now will what she have?
A bag of dope, a bottle, or crack, or a sess bag
There ain’t a part of me with ‘sorry’ written on it, slick
You couldn’t rock a crooked cradle, you fuckin prick
The way I rock could shit, you just often like it
My style’s so fat I had to throw it on a water diet
Bullshit ya not, I ain’t the type to be fuckin with
Wreckin with, and if I mic attest it, I’ll be neckin it
Onslaught at an encore, you stinkin rat
You’re so dumb you tried to buy a fuckin thinkin cap
Now that tells us in a sec right where your head is at
In between some bitch’s legs, lookin ass and lap
My name is Treach, remember this and don’t you ever ‘fess
That’s a shame, I get two minutes just to say "Next!"
Fuck who follows you, you and them could help each other
I treat you both like any other motherfuckin runner
This is the Flavor, tasty although sugar-free
So have a Coke, have a smile and have a booger, G

(Why?) Cos you don’t mean shit to me
I’ma take you ????? where good shit’s meant to be
I rock a rhyme that’ll be a straight up def track
Droppin more shit than white castles and neck slacks
A studio to me is just a chance to rock, G
I rock and rock, god damn, call me VinRocky (ha ha)
It’s just what the fuck I’m talkin bout
I say one thing and your whole crew’s walkin out
So do the lyric here, this is one lyric less
If I were you, I’d take and throw em on his fuckin neck
Something that flow should come straight from the horse’s mouth
Mr. Ed’s dead so his ass is the best way out
Shit man for hire, this hitman is the law
I run more tracks than a San Francisco trolley car
Prepare for the win-te, oh yeah
I could write your fuckin album and you’ll soon be the last one there
I start to heat up and rip shit in one, see
You couldn’t get it hard if the eyes were on Broad Street