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Sound Bwoy Bureill

Boom bye bye, to a sound bwoy head,

We don't promote no nasty man, dem hav fi dead,

Givin' him two shots dead to him chin, enemy a friend,

Fake the funk, i put the junk to an end,

Now who da rude bwoy, wan tess de o.g.,

I find his family, to identify he,

I bet you never thought I bust led,

To prize, I'm a fortified blunt head just like a dreadYou cant tess the champion sound, you gettin bucked down,

Recognize my boot camp click, outta bucktown,

Gun thirsty little bastard, always blasted,

From the sess of chocolate, from my dick gastin,

You say you number one wicked selecta,

I say you punani, and I wetcha,

Keep the bull, before I pull this here trigga,

Cause you don't wanna tess me, when I'm tipsy off the liquor,

Like a punk they call mcgirt, got his feelings hurt,

Showed his true colors, had to yank up his skirt,

Now he's in misery, tryin to cop a plea,

Led to his head, from gun clapper number 3,

See, lick off a shot you no dick rida,

Lick a shot punani, not gun fireNow everybody wan be dongongon,

All around new york niggas be talkin, but we be stalkin,

In the docks when the gun starts buckin,

But in the day, be wary of where you be walkin,[Chorus]

You see sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

Its the boot camp click

And you your gettin' done

Me sing sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

It's the blackhart scavenger you know your gettin' done

Me sing sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

Tess smif n wessun rasta know your gettin' done

But me say sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

Tess de boot camp click and you know your gettin' done

Me singMe naw sex, me ruff like the wicked you fe me,

The the other half, that be buggin' over truth you see,

Original, criminal, run in town, crime pays,

That's when I practiced, your act if, you wan get blasted

By my nine shot, come around my block, pon the night spot,

In the pine box, murdera' sound bwoy killa, fantili filla,

We bout to get illa,Sound bwoy, ya got nuff reason to worry,

Coming wit' my troops, we about to bury,

Betta pack ya dubs and move in a hurry, ease off seen,

Lookin at my pager, it's about that time,

To load up the 9, and do my derelict crime,

Warriors, conquerors, the man before ya,

Mr. ripper, a.k.a. the enemy killa,

My man wit the weed, is my man in deed,

And all you sucky-ducky niggas catch nots wit speed,[Chorus]You see sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

Tess de boot camp click

You your gettin done

Me sing sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

Tess de smif n wessun and you know your gettin done

Me sayLaud!, some bwoy wan get dead tonite duke,

As I retrieve the 2-5 from my timboots,

Target pon sight, trick up and cock,

Adjust your pupils to see a dead bwoy walk,

'Nuff pussy hole gwan die dis year,

Here comes the bootcamp, slide it to the rear,

Its the rain, hurricane still lickin' shots,

More untouchable than niggas wit the chicken pox,

Dreads and fros out to get the dough like this quick

From now until louisville still packs the biscuit

Nighty now, smif n wessun, o.g.c.'s it's the beast from the east

Wit gun clapper number 3We bring the realness, feel this, boom it's black moon reveal

This,

We come to let you know, what the deal is,

Straight up we serve justice, so if you can't be trusted,

May you return where the dust isThere is many sound that's goin' around, and goin' on,

And gwan like a clown, but I'm tellin you, clean up your act,

And come to de livestock 'cause you a deadstock from mornin' to de

Evenin', now everything changedYou know, sound bwoy dead so we lick off dem head man for real

Its smif n wessun long side blackhart scavenger

Ridin' through and when we look a when we look and sayTell dem fi come if a trouble dem want

Boy we a go lick dem wit de finesse and charm

Tell dem fi come if a trouble dem a look

Take a look take a look in a camp lyric smoke

Tell dem fi come if a trouble dem a want

Boy we a go lick dem wit de finesse and charm

Tell dem fi come if a trouble dem a look

Take a look take a look in a scavenger lyric smoke

'Cause every page full a style

And full of a fashion

We don't believe in pirate material

My lyrics no rush and

Well original christen and stamp

Wit de seal of approval, original true posse

Give me de siganl

Put dem to bed and give de bureil

Me say sound bureil and we don't take dat fi fun

Songwriters

O. YATES, T. WILLIAMS, J. MCNAIR, W. HENRQ, E. DEWGARDE, W. DEWGARDEPublished by

Lyrics © MJJN LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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