Yukmouth Lyrics – Bumbell

[Tech N9ne] (Yukmouth)
Regime killas, ah
What the deal
(It’s that lethal)
What’s poppin
Regime niggas in this motherf**ker for the one nine nine twist b**ch
(Uh, that regime s**t)
Regime s**t, yeah
(Done deal, bumbell)
New millenium rhymers nigga
(What, Tech a nina)
The bumbell
Where the f**k you at
(Up in this b**ch)

[Yukmouth] (Tech N9ne)
Uh, what uh, introducin two of the regime’s finest
(Regime) Tech a nina
And Smoke a Lot himself
(Smoke a lot, bumbell)
Let’s serve these niggas with the straight shh, uh nigga
(In your back b**ch)
F**k that, I’m tired of not being of the bungalow s**t
This bumbell for you nigga

[Yukmouth]
It’s bumbell bumbell, that’s straight rapid fire
That override your ampliphiers and the woofers
Your bass tube hook ups shut the f**k up with wires cooked up
Niggas stash my tape like gats in the bushes, it’s that lethal
It’ll probably have you killing people, for real
Cops say it’s illegal to have a Yuk tape in your possesion
Niggas keep going to jail for 11, 350’s and 211’s
187’s, concealed weapons, all the above
Tear the f**kin club up with my nigga what

[Tech N9ne]
That Tech N9ne nigga, lyrically blind niggas on the grind
All the time you will find I spiritually define nigga, rhyme killa
I’m the purer from Missour-a
Quick when I rip s**t trip this animalistic, f**k Ace Ventura
By the power of my dead niggas I’ma ride this like a rollercoaster
Ain’t nobody f**kin with my niggas I’m the killa representin Cosa Nostra
So bust like you’re supposed to
We guaranteed this gon sell cuz this shit’s the bumbell nigga

[Chorus: (Tech N9ne)] X 2
(Ba bum)
This s**t is heated (Ba bum)
Your s**t’s deleted (Ba bum)
And when you need it (Ba bum)
We drunk and weeded
As long as this rap s**t sells
Us niggas with figures we keep releasin the bumbell

[Yukmouth]
B**ch I can make ya ?ven? (Ba bum)
Make ya ?land? (Ba bum)
Make the fans (Ba bum)
Gang related dance (Ba bum)
I can make the hood (Ba bum)
Make your ?Kim Wood? (Ba bum)
Make your stereo (Ba bum)
Make calico (Ba bum)
They dumpin on us, clunk clunk go the trunk
Grab the pump, bang my s**t when you in the mist to funk
Or get s**t crunked
When s**t jumps, I’m the theme music
Like thorazine, the fiends cling to it
I didn’t mean to do it
The music made me do it, it made me loose it
Got my mind playin tricks
Now my nine can’t stop sprayin s**t
Until the nigga lay in a ditch
And when I played this s**t it blew my speakers out
Looked out the window I saw dope fiends and tweakers out in the
middle of the street doing the electric slide, you shoulda peeped it out
It got me geeked out, hustlin makin scrilla
After every word I got to say nigga
Like what’s up nigga?
Let’s smoke this blunt nigga
Oh, yesterday got caught, got f**ked up nigga
You bumpin Yuk nigga?
Oh that’s the bumbell

[Chorus] X 2

[Tech N9ne]
We’re now listening to the sounds of Tech N9ne
I don’t need no medication, I just packs my crispy flows
Endo, rum and fornication, jammed up for y’all filthy hoes
That nigga named Tech N9ne is a motherf**ker on Gang Related
Hater’s gotta respect mine or the next time get strangulated
Rap A Lot summoned me, I told em that I had a gun in me
Loony as a nigga wanna be, kindly get the f**k from front of me
Sleepin with a black cat in my lap, spliitin poles daily
Under a lot of weight and on a bus on a broken mirror don’t faze me
They say Tech when I rap you wouldn’t be alive
F**k that, I got niggas lettin em go for tweleve five, bumbell’s live
We bringin heat to the game, deep when we came
Niggas f**ked up and put they feet to the flame
Got that (ish) if you want it, gives a (uff) I’m a flaunt it
That (haaaa) got niggas thinkin I’m hunted, the bumbell

[Chorus] X 2

[Tech N9ne] (Yukmouth)
Yeah (Live and direct)
KC meets Oakland, Oakland meets Houston, a killa mixture
(Bumbell) Bumbell (What)
Tech N9ne (Regime s**t)
Ish, uck, nigga
What you wanna do
Regime crew
Like that nigga
Me and Yukmouth up in this motherf**ker puttin this s**t in your back
For the one nine nine twist
You know what I’m sizzlin?
You know what I’m sizzlin?
You know what I’m sizzlin?
Regime killas!
(Thugged out, Yukmouth)

Yukmouth Lyrics – Ballers Feud

Chorus *(Phats Bossalini & Val Young)* 2x

That’s the Ballers Feud
A thug changes, and love changes
That’s the Ballers Feud
And best friends become strangers.

Verse 1*(Yukmouth)*

Survey says…
You know some fake mutha f**kas
I know some bustas too
this fake mutha f**ka been causin rukus in my crew
since ‘92
at first I thought he was cool like Dru
always hollerin the Dangerous Crew, but if you only knew
them niggas don’t wanna hang wit you
cuz of the thangs you do
learn a thang or two
talkin bad bout yo homies, two b**ches who juss be framin you
niggas thinkin bout hangin you, the game is true
everywhere we go the punk hoo bangin you
makes it kinda hard for me to swang wit you
that’s why niggas only hang wit Dru, my pimpydoo
folk-el, smoke out my Range Rove-el
What? What?
f**k these broke-els
I hate it when niggas be playin wit yo mail, because they only end up
smoked out
broke as hell
drivin buckets
I’m drivin luxury cars and plus s**t
Benz the Lexus the roughest to f**k wit
so you wanna be P-I-M-P?
You need to get a bitch to f**k you fo free
you payin G’s fo p**sy.

*(Chorus)* 2x

Verse 2 *(Numskull)*

There’s too many playas
too many ballas
too many hustlas
too many killas
too many pimped out mutha f**kas
so now we got the east coast and the west coast feudin to see who’s
cleanest
the cleanest mutha f**ka is the richest and the genius
what if you stumbles, like buyin too many houses
wit rims to put on yo shit, too many furry couches
who the mouses nigga, I think you knowin
sheadin tears from bitches who take yo s**t and keep goin
an don’t come back, cuz they done s**ked you d**k and yo cabbage
got 20 hoes across America livin lavish
hatin is juss a hoe thang, yo, I gotta live like that
a b**ch can roll wit me, or hit the track
you can talk about pimpin, you can talk about killin
but when that s**t goes down, sound minds will be revealin
when you die and comeback, maybe you can try again and beat me
but don’t try now, cuz you niggas can’t see me
22, ready to hoo ride at moments notice
first to swang, hittin noses, eyes can’t focus
hocus pocus
now 25 niggas on ya
juss because you moved from California
Ballers Feud.

*(Chorus)* 2x

Verse 3 *(Kastro)*

We went from loved ones, on the way up
to no love at all
time to go though, so I don’t give no f**ks at all
cross the game
don’t be playin, stoned get right
I shed blood wit this, and that can’t be gone, overnight
this hate
man, could be a cold mutha f**ka
close friends, close as cat scan, love ‘em like my brother
now I
see ‘em dyin like a mutha f**ka
slow death, no breath
man I love it like my mother
and that’s some cold s**t, I’m on some mo’ swole s**t
listen quick
fingers thick
lady c**t
piss this s**t, on yo c**t
niggas know I’m flossin K-Cash
cash foldin
you want what I’m holdin, my wife an my life stolen
worse enemy, authority
police are all enemy
richeously, this life fo’ me ain’t as bad as it seems to be
but still in all I love, all I love
take my ten fingers, my ten toes, an mash outta love
do it fo ya’ll, all ya’ll
my baby girl an God
this crazy world like a knife in the heart of my cause
now half part of me hard
the other part of me scarred
death wit out health, but still a nigga prayin to God.

*(Chorus)* 4x