Bumpy Knuckles Baby Lyrics - Singles - Bumpy Knuckles

Feel me, I bet you've never seen a nigga that get raw like me 

Gun in your face, put niggas on the floor like me 

Who go to war like me? Flip a whore like me? 

Put the squeeze on rap competitors like me 

Get less and make more like me 

Hunt a nigga down like the Predator like me 

Keep the Macs in the drawer like me 

How many niggas really raw to the motherfucking hardcore like me? 

It's Bumpy Knuckles baby, I got lyrical styles forever 

My endevor is to smash you punk motherfuckers 

I do it to young niggas, old niggas, rock niggas, soul niggas 

Scared niggas, bold niggas, since '89 I told niggas 

I'm still ripping with this timeless shit 

While you niggas spit that offbeat rhyming shit 

My life is full of hard times and shit 

So all I rhyme about is whooping niggas asses and crime and shit 

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Who got the hardest MC style ever created? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Who got celebrity status and it's still underrated? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Who got them two hot nines that be black and nickle-plated? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

And I blow a nigga chest out to keep me motivated 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

I spit the murder one verse that's for the thugs that be thuggin' 

Freddie Foxxx be busting nuff slugs at who be bugging 

I get it everywhere that I go, thug loving 

Cause it's fatter than Star Jones and Rosie Huggins 

I've been lyrically inclined since I thought about a rhyme 

Plus I knew the only thing I couldn't kill was time 

So I started a long ten-year climb doing mine 

While them fake niggas stay in a rush to stay behind 

Bum bit, I spit the flames til the mic's set afire 

I'm a fighter not a crier, don't care who you hire 

Kill your street team, burn your flyers 

Niggas need Jacoby & Meyers for being liers, now feel me 

Calling major labels, tell 'em Bumpy Knuckles is in town 

Tell 'em don't send no rappers out or I'm a bust 'em down 

It's the king of the underground sound, get ready for the Industry Shakedown 

Yo Pete, break it down 

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Who got the hardest MC style ever created? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Who got celebrity status and it's still underrated? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Who got them two hot nines that be black and nickle-plated? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

And I blow a nigga chest out to keep me motivated 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Yo get the fuck up out my face, B, I'm an MC 

Not some fake-ass rapper kissing ass at the Gavin 

Asking how can he be down, I make impact 

Like the four-pound slug ripping through a nigga cap 

I guarantee that, now here's a fact 

Niggas ain't selling records, let alone a key of crack 

You stare at me too long, B, your ice grill will melt down to water 

And I check you like I check my daughter 

Now turn it up, it's the pit amongst mutts, huh, I'm off the chain 

Off the pen or off the brain, I bring it to you niggas 

Like I'm fucking insane, huh, you heard it pop 

Now you snitching like Colin Fergueson at Comstock 

You ain't a thug, B, I'm rougher than rugby 

The real niggas tolerate you, but the thugs love me 

Bitches in every city want to hug me 

A nigga would rather shoot his fucking self before he ever slug me 

Who got the hardest MC style ever created? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Who got celebrity status and it's still underrated? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

Who got them two hot nines that be black and nickle-plated? 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!) 

And I blow a nigga chest out to keep me motivated 

(Bumpy Knuckles baby! Bumpy Knuckles baby!)