Who Got The Props - Black Moon

Put up, what up, bo bo bo

Suckers want to flow

But they got no show

So I’m a grab the mic

Flip a script and leave you stunned

Buckshot’s the one

That gets the job done

Mic check, I get

Paid to wreck your set

Get ready to jet

Cause I’m a threat to your fret

No holds barred

And complete move fakers

Best to be the backup

Watch your girl, I might take her

If she’s a crab

I’m a diss her and slide

If she try to riff

I got my Smith on my side

Word to God

Here I come, so make way

Rugged and rough

Killing your set every day

Microphone check

One, two, here we go

And I’m a let you know

Who got the flow

Spitting my verbs like

An automatic weapon

Suckers keep stepping

Cause I’m a let you know

Who got the props

Who got the props

5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot

One Mississippi, two Mississippi

Sucker tried to diss me

Ao I played him like

A hippie from the 60's

But I’m a get paid from the 90's

Quick to play you

Little Rascals out like Stymie

Kicking flavor

With my Life Saver techniques

Guaranteed to move feets

And I go on for weeks

Maybe years if my peers

Give me ears to fill

Lick off a shot and

Act ill, parlay and chill

See I paid my dues

Now you can’t tell me nothing

This is dedicated to the

Ones who kept fronting

The ones who tried to

Diss and play high, oh, no

Just cause you had low

See now I got dough

And I’m paid out my rectum

Meaning my backbone

Grab the mic, flip a

Mad script to your dome

Suckers, I kick 'em like tae kwon do

Yes and low, from head

To toe to let you know

I’m the rugged operator

Like Arnold Schwarzenegger

Buckshot quick to play

Your nigga like Sega

Smooth trigger-happy snappy

Keep my hair nappy

When I swinging

Ep girls call me big pappy

I used to play a game

Called ring around the rosey

But now I play the mic

That’s why the whole world knows me

I’m sort of like a Chevy

Heavy when I bumrush

You’d better bring

Your whole damn crew or

Get your head crushed, sucker

Cause I’m a set it off with one shot

One trigger, one nigga

Enough heads drop

Don’t even try to

Play me out cause static

Buckshot Shorty

He sounds like an automatic

Rip the set, my friend’s mad tight

Cause I rocks the mic

And keeps the crowd hype

Straight from bumrush

I crush and cause chaos, yo

And I’m a let you know

One, two, melody shows

And before I flip a script

You know I must keep you dozing

Into the stage of the Buckshot Shorty

Son pass the boom, keep the top on the 40

Never ever ever get played, kill that

Bust a mad cap in your back

Cause I’m all that

Straight from Crooklyn

Better known as Brooklyn

Elude the hook and

Your whole beat’s tooken

Must take charge

Bomb guard, I’m the man

Bust my plan, it feeds back on my fam

Once I cruise, pay dues, I never lose

When I break on fools

Wake up, you don’t snooze

Bust a move

I get smooth like Roadie

Kick it like the Four Horsemen

Yeah, you know me

Booming like a speaker

With my hundred dollar sneakers

Baggy black jeans

Knapsack and my beeper

Keep a fresh cut

Never see me with a busted fro

And I’m a let you know