Throw Your Hands in the Air Songtext
von Black Moon
Throw Your Hands in the Air Songtext
(Verse 1: Buckshot)
Who you all been waiting for? Buckshot
Who can rock a nigga′s knot? Buckshot
Get you high like chocolate? Buckshot
When it comes to this, I never stop
Drip drop, hip hop
'Cuz you know I′m on top of my job
Makin' it hard, handeling my business on the boulevard
La, there's so many people trying to be equal
Shorty all embarassed ′cuz he drive a Regal
It′s a thugged out bucket
As long as you make money when you hustle, fuck it
It's the next man thought to bring you down
If you ain′t benefiting, then you better slip in
A couple words that'll set ′em straight
'Uz carrying the weak niggas on your shoulder is only dead weight
So, pick your head up when you get up
And if you′re feeling what I'm saying
Let me see you throw your fist sup
(Chorus-Buckshot)
Throw your hands in the air like this (x3)
Put your hands in the sky like this
Throw your hands in the air like this (x4)
(Verse 2: Buckshot)
The bomb was set to be lose
In a couple of minutes, don't be alarmed
It′s a hands on experience, throw your hands up
Let us, the bettors, niggas put your grands up
What you about to see is reality, baby
Check the stats, and see if you can hang with me
Black Moon, 92, was set to blow
Smif ′n Wessun '93 and ′94
Fab 5, '95, and nigga we strive
To keep it tight and keep this Duckdown shit alive
Ain′t no surprise, my niggas put the "real" in "ize."
You better open up your motherfuckin eyes
(Chorus: Buckshot x1)
(Verse 3: Buckshot)
After this, I smoke a fat Bob Marley
Into Bob Marley, slow down hardly
Thumping is a thug's world
I recognize ′cuz I'm living in the bug world
I got a letter from my girl in D.C.
She put me on the scoop about bitches around me
All of a sudden, I peeped the ones fronting
It be in the front line of mind
But in the end, there's always time
I′m just the type to stay original
Fuck biting off the next man, it′s pitiful
P.O.S.: power over suckers
In this rap game, my nickname be dirty chuckers
Mr. Buckshot, rock the triathalon of rap
Squeezing like a python to break your back
Check the facts for the illy verse
About reality, you want another one?
I need your hands first
Who you all been waiting for? Buckshot
Who can rock a nigga′s knot? Buckshot
Get you high like chocolate? Buckshot
When it comes to this, I never stop
Drip drop, hip hop
'Cuz you know I′m on top of my job
Makin' it hard, handeling my business on the boulevard
La, there's so many people trying to be equal
Shorty all embarassed ′cuz he drive a Regal
It′s a thugged out bucket
As long as you make money when you hustle, fuck it
It's the next man thought to bring you down
If you ain′t benefiting, then you better slip in
A couple words that'll set ′em straight
'Uz carrying the weak niggas on your shoulder is only dead weight
So, pick your head up when you get up
And if you′re feeling what I'm saying
Let me see you throw your fist sup
(Chorus-Buckshot)
Throw your hands in the air like this (x3)
Put your hands in the sky like this
Throw your hands in the air like this (x4)
(Verse 2: Buckshot)
The bomb was set to be lose
In a couple of minutes, don't be alarmed
It′s a hands on experience, throw your hands up
Let us, the bettors, niggas put your grands up
What you about to see is reality, baby
Check the stats, and see if you can hang with me
Black Moon, 92, was set to blow
Smif ′n Wessun '93 and ′94
Fab 5, '95, and nigga we strive
To keep it tight and keep this Duckdown shit alive
Ain′t no surprise, my niggas put the "real" in "ize."
You better open up your motherfuckin eyes
(Chorus: Buckshot x1)
(Verse 3: Buckshot)
After this, I smoke a fat Bob Marley
Into Bob Marley, slow down hardly
Thumping is a thug's world
I recognize ′cuz I'm living in the bug world
I got a letter from my girl in D.C.
She put me on the scoop about bitches around me
All of a sudden, I peeped the ones fronting
It be in the front line of mind
But in the end, there's always time
I′m just the type to stay original
Fuck biting off the next man, it′s pitiful
P.O.S.: power over suckers
In this rap game, my nickname be dirty chuckers
Mr. Buckshot, rock the triathalon of rap
Squeezing like a python to break your back
Check the facts for the illy verse
About reality, you want another one?
I need your hands first
Writer(s): Walt Dewgarde Jr, Kenyatta Blake, Curtis Mayfield, Stinston Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
