Watcha Come Around Here For Songtext / Lyric

Verse 1: Spliff Star


I spits lines for thug cats

Neighborhood drug rats

Hardcore

Keep it raw

What

Niggaz love that

Stack the greenbacks

And stay steady with the weed sack

Spliff Star one of the famous foreigners

From East Flat

Bush fire arms until you no longer breather black

Make it hot

Standin on the corner wit the G-Pack

Look at me

Lampin in the fires wit my seats back

Got the game to fuck wit ?Jake? where you and her sleep at


Verse 2: Rah Digga


Lyrically inclined

And inclined to get lyrical

Checkin for residuals

Rhymin be the ritual

Ill individual

Bad habitat

Watch my voice battle cats

While i'm spittin battle rats

On the high horse

And I keep my saddle strapped

You'd be headin up the river like 'where the paddle at?'

Got a rhyme overload

Rah Digga always front ya

Leavin niggaz stuck like I was accupuncture


Chorus: Rah Digga


Got niggaz from the hood

Thinkin shit all good

I'm askin all y'all

(All): WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!

Got niggaz outta town

Tryin to come and be down

I'm askin all y'all

(All): WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!

Got niggaz online

Think they fuckin wit mine

I'm askin all y'all

(All): WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!

I'm askin all y'all

(All): WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!

I'm askin all y'all

(All): WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!


Verse 3: Baby Sham


It makes alot of sense

When you see Sham in black Benz

With high friends

Pull up the club wit dark tints

Never jump out

Thats why they lookin dead in my mouth

They must have doubts

Like who the stars wit no lookouts

You'd be amazed and surprised to who'd run in your house

And tag their names on the stomach of your pregnant spouse

I shall leave you wit that

BIB from QB

Boys In Black

And foul attitudes to match


Verse 4: Busta Rhymes


Now who you be god

I bee the soul controller

I burst gas like the fizz out of your Coca Cola

Live shit like the energy of solar

With thug niggaz wit names like Bullet Head and Cobra

Street niggaz be feelin the nights gettin cold the what

Bear skin furs like Australian polar

Hang up on wack bitches who call the Motorolla

And smack faggots like you don't make me have to show ya


Chorus


Verse 5: Rampage


Ramp I'm not talkin son I'm comin out clappin

All you whack niggaz be poppin shit y'all whack niggaz actin

Flipmode number 1 squad that make shit happen

I'm rippin down shit while you other niggaz slackin

Money cats is stocked and locked plus I'm stackin

Them grimy niggaz rollin with me

Them niggaz packin

Bust 4 in your face pop 4 in your back and

8 bullets total in all I'm street trackin


Verse 6: (Unknown Member)


2 for my block like 10 in the mornin

Squish your organs

Like Swiss scheese whippin the arm

And flavor blaze I play the corner

Wake up your neighbors wit my tape in awe to feel my aura

Mauziano I'm like a silver Tzar holdin golden

Metal & dough I hold my arm swollen

On the farm belong for soldiers I control like they seein Moses

Fiendin for flows I pose to split you open

Layin back rappers for motion picture me slap on my rappin boots


Chorus


Verse 7: Lord Have Mercy


The earth is the globe

Where I work my magic like Merlin unfold

Circus enclosure

Life worthless no goals

Perfect controls

Like Ayatola's turbans and robes

From the counties of kings

Bails, bounties, pissie lobbies

50 armies

Probably bring hell on this earth

Legend of dirt

Smash ghettos

Who can't hold his turf

Menace/(Man its) incredible work

Land Lord blaze him and gave him the dirt

Hah


Chorus