Census Bureau (Explicit Album Version) - Clean Album Version 歌词
| 歌曲 | Census Bureau (Explicit Album Version) - Clean Album Version |
| 歌手 | DJ Kayslay |
| 专辑 | The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| Yeah, we straight from the census bureau | |
| Haha, Runyan Ave | |
| We lookin for yo' momma | |
| D-12 - where yo' momma at? | |
| Miko â" where yo' momma at? | |
| Young Zee, hey Dame - where yo' momma at? | |
| I wanna f**k that bitch, her stankin ass | |
| Hey Em where yo' momma at? (Ohhhh-ohhhhh) | |
| Yo.. | |
| [Kon Artis] | |
| You know me, Denaun the same ol' nigga | |
| I spray paint your car up like Rain-O nigga | |
| See me and you are sorta like the same I guess | |
| We both rock mics but yours is into our chest | |
| You can't do nuttin to me, Runyan Ave's unruly | |
| And truly this ain't a movie, you get slapped with the tooly | |
| So pass the slimmy and the Hennessy, I got the energy | |
| to steal every car in this vicinity, you feelin me? | |
| Take it back to when Das EFX was sayin niggity-wiggity-wild | |
| Piggity-pow, nigga be out | |
| You don't really want war, I'm chillin at your door | |
| This uzi will have you bloody windmill-ing on the floor | |
| I can't be a punk, my daddy wasn't none | |
| I lose a fight after school and I came home and got one | |
| You reap what you sew, that shit you oughta know | |
| I keep it on the flo' under the seat â" I ain't a hoe! | |
| [Chorus: Kuniva] + (Kon Artis) | |
| You know it's been a while but we feelin it now | |
| (The rough sound muh'f**ker, niggaz killin it now) | |
| Goddamn! You don't want no problems B | |
| (Get your name in the obituary column sheet) | |
| It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again | |
| (Yo yo, you fallin off, goin back to smokin crack again) | |
| Hit the weed (guzzle your Corona) pass the Gin | |
| (Better duck cause they back bustin gats again) | |
| [Swifty] | |
| A basket case indeed; stronger than a can of mace | |
| Slap you in the face while you patty-cakin witcha seed | |
| I'll be makin all these niggaz wanna take a beam | |
| And put it right on my head | |
| You don't be takin heed, you probably idol the Feds | |
| Havin meetings to recite what I said | |
| Liable to have you in a medical room | |
| Walk in that bitch with a cell phone then turn it on | |
| "You fittin to die holmes!" {*explosion*} | |
| Got a chrome that be f**kin up shit worse than I | |
| You would swear that I'm a Gemini | |
| I kill a guy for nothin - eye to eye | |
| And I ain't gotta touch them niggaz face soon as I say somethin | |
| Got a pump that'll tear your arm quick, when I leave a carcass | |
| You would think you in Death Row's office (AHH!) {*gun clicks*} | |
| (Hang a nigga!) I'm ill enough to fall in the middle of moshpits | |
| Survive and I'm gettin up high without a flaw bitch! | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Proof] | |
| I'm a dog on the mic that'll brawl out with Christ | |
| Get to cappin at your captain 'til he fall outta life | |
| I'm all outta nice, nigga tuck your chain | |
| Put holes in your head and finger-f**k your brain | |
| Fool f**k this game, I'm poppin at coach | |
| Momma dropped me on my head and knew that somethin was broke | |
| I ain't feelin nothin you wrote so I'm stompin your throat | |
| Show up at the hospital and start punchin your folks | |
| I'm a uzi with arms and legs | |
| Duty calm your man, before my tooly bomb his head (WHAT!) | |
| You wanna take what my 40-cal since you bitch-made | |
| Spittin the right game so yo' ass can get laid | |
| the f**k down, I don't give a f**k now, whassup? | |
| Talkin bout "Clappin" - quit actin, you barely bust nuts | |
| Don't get it twisted at the gates, the name is Proof | |
| And I'ma kill every man that came with you | |
| [Bizarre] | |
| Yeah, yeah â" KNOCK KNOCK! Guess who showed up? | |
| 44-mag and tear your whole door up | |
| Pink shower cap and, yellow drawers | |
| My dick's so small, I can pee on my own balls (hahaha) | |
| When it comes to pussy, Bizarre goes to work | |
| That's why my mouth smell like hot dogs and yellow Persh (eww!) | |
| So tell your momma hit me on my cell phone | |
| I ain't home, I'm so wet gettin stoned with Norah Jones | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Kuniva] | |
| Yo, I chuck niggaz daily, a six-man crew that's born crazy | |
| A triple O.G. like Tray Deee (whattup Loc?) | |
| I stay sparkin, bitch I got a attitude | |
| I step on your shoes and won't say pardon - be cautious! | |
| Hidin from the one-time, nutty as I wanna be | |
| Wild and disorderly, pissin on your toilet seat | |
| Nigga now you know it's me, I got a .44 wit me | |
| Bitches all over me, +Sayin Yes+ like Floetry | |
| Homie you wanna be a G? Go toe-to-toe wit me | |
| It ain't no hoe in me dawg, I shoot out where your colons be | |
| Wave the people-mover, crowd-controller | |
| Rob niggaz 'til my pockets look greener than Yoda | |
| And you know that I'm the +Shady+ type, the crazy type | |
| That's probably why promoters never pay me right | |
| We a bunch of hooligans, my hands is on the tool again | |
| I'm bout to bust a Huey and spray up a f**kin school again | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Outro: Bizarre] | |
| Yeah.. D-12. | |
| Devil's Night.. part two.. | |
| The drama.. continues.. | |
| KaySlay.. hahahaha.. |
| Yeah, we straight from the census bureau | |
| Haha, Runyan Ave | |
| We lookin for yo' momma | |
| D12 where yo' momma at? | |
| Miko " where yo' momma at? | |
| Young Zee, hey Dame where yo' momma at? | |
| I wanna f k that bitch, her stankin ass | |
| Hey Em where yo' momma at? Ohhhhohhhhh | |
| Yo.. | |
| Kon Artis | |
| You know me, Denaun the same ol' nigga | |
| I spray paint your car up like RainO nigga | |
| See me and you are sorta like the same I guess | |
| We both rock mics but yours is into our chest | |
| You can' t do nuttin to me, Runyan Ave' s unruly | |
| And truly this ain' t a movie, you get slapped with the tooly | |
| So pass the slimmy and the Hennessy, I got the energy | |
| to steal every car in this vicinity, you feelin me? | |
| Take it back to when Das EFX was sayin niggitywiggitywild | |
| Piggitypow, nigga be out | |
| You don' t really want war, I' m chillin at your door | |
| This uzi will have you bloody windmilling on the floor | |
| I can' t be a punk, my daddy wasn' t none | |
| I lose a fight after school and I came home and got one | |
| You reap what you sew, that shit you oughta know | |
| I keep it on the flo' under the seat " I ain' t a hoe! | |
| Chorus: Kuniva Kon Artis | |
| You know it' s been a while but we feelin it now | |
| The rough sound muh' f ker, niggaz killin it now | |
| Goddamn! You don' t want no problems B | |
| Get your name in the obituary column sheet | |
| It' s that same ol' shit, niggaz back again | |
| Yo yo, you fallin off, goin back to smokin crack again | |
| Hit the weed guzzle your Corona pass the Gin | |
| Better duck cause they back bustin gats again | |
| Swifty | |
| A basket case indeed stronger than a can of mace | |
| Slap you in the face while you pattycakin witcha seed | |
| I' ll be makin all these niggaz wanna take a beam | |
| And put it right on my head | |
| You don' t be takin heed, you probably idol the Feds | |
| Havin meetings to recite what I said | |
| Liable to have you in a medical room | |
| Walk in that bitch with a cell phone then turn it on | |
| " You fittin to die holmes!" explosion | |
| Got a chrome that be f kin up shit worse than I | |
| You would swear that I' m a Gemini | |
| I kill a guy for nothin eye to eye | |
| And I ain' t gotta touch them niggaz face soon as I say somethin | |
| Got a pump that' ll tear your arm quick, when I leave a carcass | |
| You would think you in Death Row' s office AHH! gun clicks | |
| Hang a nigga! I' m ill enough to fall in the middle of moshpits | |
| Survive and I' m gettin up high without a flaw bitch! | |
| Chorus | |
| Proof | |
| I' m a dog on the mic that' ll brawl out with Christ | |
| Get to cappin at your captain ' til he fall outta life | |
| I' m all outta nice, nigga tuck your chain | |
| Put holes in your head and fingerf k your brain | |
| Fool f k this game, I' m poppin at coach | |
| Momma dropped me on my head and knew that somethin was broke | |
| I ain' t feelin nothin you wrote so I' m stompin your throat | |
| Show up at the hospital and start punchin your folks | |
| I' m a uzi with arms and legs | |
| Duty calm your man, before my tooly bomb his head WHAT! | |
| You wanna take what my 40cal since you bitchmade | |
| Spittin the right game so yo' ass can get laid | |
| the f k down, I don' t give a f k now, whassup? | |
| Talkin bout " Clappin" quit actin, you barely bust nuts | |
| Don' t get it twisted at the gates, the name is Proof | |
| And I' ma kill every man that came with you | |
| Bizarre | |
| Yeah, yeah " KNOCK KNOCK! Guess who showed up? | |
| 44mag and tear your whole door up | |
| Pink shower cap and, yellow drawers | |
| My dick' s so small, I can pee on my own balls hahaha | |
| When it comes to pussy, Bizarre goes to work | |
| That' s why my mouth smell like hot dogs and yellow Persh eww! | |
| So tell your momma hit me on my cell phone | |
| I ain' t home, I' m so wet gettin stoned with Norah Jones | |
| Chorus | |
| Kuniva | |
| Yo, I chuck niggaz daily, a sixman crew that' s born crazy | |
| A triple O. G. like Tray Deee whattup Loc? | |
| I stay sparkin, bitch I got a attitude | |
| I step on your shoes and won' t say pardon be cautious! | |
| Hidin from the onetime, nutty as I wanna be | |
| Wild and disorderly, pissin on your toilet seat | |
| Nigga now you know it' s me, I got a . 44 wit me | |
| Bitches all over me, Sayin Yes like Floetry | |
| Homie you wanna be a G? Go toetotoe wit me | |
| It ain' t no hoe in me dawg, I shoot out where your colons be | |
| Wave the peoplemover, crowdcontroller | |
| Rob niggaz ' til my pockets look greener than Yoda | |
| And you know that I' m the Shady type, the crazy type | |
| That' s probably why promoters never pay me right | |
| We a bunch of hooligans, my hands is on the tool again | |
| I' m bout to bust a Huey and spray up a f kin school again | |
| Chorus | |
| Outro: Bizarre | |
| Yeah.. D12. | |
| Devil' s Night.. part two.. | |
| The drama.. continues.. | |
| KaySlay.. hahahaha.. |
| Yeah, we straight from the census bureau | |
| Haha, Runyan Ave | |
| We lookin for yo' momma | |
| D12 where yo' momma at? | |
| Miko " where yo' momma at? | |
| Young Zee, hey Dame where yo' momma at? | |
| I wanna f k that bitch, her stankin ass | |
| Hey Em where yo' momma at? Ohhhhohhhhh | |
| Yo.. | |
| Kon Artis | |
| You know me, Denaun the same ol' nigga | |
| I spray paint your car up like RainO nigga | |
| See me and you are sorta like the same I guess | |
| We both rock mics but yours is into our chest | |
| You can' t do nuttin to me, Runyan Ave' s unruly | |
| And truly this ain' t a movie, you get slapped with the tooly | |
| So pass the slimmy and the Hennessy, I got the energy | |
| to steal every car in this vicinity, you feelin me? | |
| Take it back to when Das EFX was sayin niggitywiggitywild | |
| Piggitypow, nigga be out | |
| You don' t really want war, I' m chillin at your door | |
| This uzi will have you bloody windmilling on the floor | |
| I can' t be a punk, my daddy wasn' t none | |
| I lose a fight after school and I came home and got one | |
| You reap what you sew, that shit you oughta know | |
| I keep it on the flo' under the seat " I ain' t a hoe! | |
| Chorus: Kuniva Kon Artis | |
| You know it' s been a while but we feelin it now | |
| The rough sound muh' f ker, niggaz killin it now | |
| Goddamn! You don' t want no problems B | |
| Get your name in the obituary column sheet | |
| It' s that same ol' shit, niggaz back again | |
| Yo yo, you fallin off, goin back to smokin crack again | |
| Hit the weed guzzle your Corona pass the Gin | |
| Better duck cause they back bustin gats again | |
| Swifty | |
| A basket case indeed stronger than a can of mace | |
| Slap you in the face while you pattycakin witcha seed | |
| I' ll be makin all these niggaz wanna take a beam | |
| And put it right on my head | |
| You don' t be takin heed, you probably idol the Feds | |
| Havin meetings to recite what I said | |
| Liable to have you in a medical room | |
| Walk in that bitch with a cell phone then turn it on | |
| " You fittin to die holmes!" explosion | |
| Got a chrome that be f kin up shit worse than I | |
| You would swear that I' m a Gemini | |
| I kill a guy for nothin eye to eye | |
| And I ain' t gotta touch them niggaz face soon as I say somethin | |
| Got a pump that' ll tear your arm quick, when I leave a carcass | |
| You would think you in Death Row' s office AHH! gun clicks | |
| Hang a nigga! I' m ill enough to fall in the middle of moshpits | |
| Survive and I' m gettin up high without a flaw bitch! | |
| Chorus | |
| Proof | |
| I' m a dog on the mic that' ll brawl out with Christ | |
| Get to cappin at your captain ' til he fall outta life | |
| I' m all outta nice, nigga tuck your chain | |
| Put holes in your head and fingerf k your brain | |
| Fool f k this game, I' m poppin at coach | |
| Momma dropped me on my head and knew that somethin was broke | |
| I ain' t feelin nothin you wrote so I' m stompin your throat | |
| Show up at the hospital and start punchin your folks | |
| I' m a uzi with arms and legs | |
| Duty calm your man, before my tooly bomb his head WHAT! | |
| You wanna take what my 40cal since you bitchmade | |
| Spittin the right game so yo' ass can get laid | |
| the f k down, I don' t give a f k now, whassup? | |
| Talkin bout " Clappin" quit actin, you barely bust nuts | |
| Don' t get it twisted at the gates, the name is Proof | |
| And I' ma kill every man that came with you | |
| Bizarre | |
| Yeah, yeah " KNOCK KNOCK! Guess who showed up? | |
| 44mag and tear your whole door up | |
| Pink shower cap and, yellow drawers | |
| My dick' s so small, I can pee on my own balls hahaha | |
| When it comes to pussy, Bizarre goes to work | |
| That' s why my mouth smell like hot dogs and yellow Persh eww! | |
| So tell your momma hit me on my cell phone | |
| I ain' t home, I' m so wet gettin stoned with Norah Jones | |
| Chorus | |
| Kuniva | |
| Yo, I chuck niggaz daily, a sixman crew that' s born crazy | |
| A triple O. G. like Tray Deee whattup Loc? | |
| I stay sparkin, bitch I got a attitude | |
| I step on your shoes and won' t say pardon be cautious! | |
| Hidin from the onetime, nutty as I wanna be | |
| Wild and disorderly, pissin on your toilet seat | |
| Nigga now you know it' s me, I got a . 44 wit me | |
| Bitches all over me, Sayin Yes like Floetry | |
| Homie you wanna be a G? Go toetotoe wit me | |
| It ain' t no hoe in me dawg, I shoot out where your colons be | |
| Wave the peoplemover, crowdcontroller | |
| Rob niggaz ' til my pockets look greener than Yoda | |
| And you know that I' m the Shady type, the crazy type | |
| That' s probably why promoters never pay me right | |
| We a bunch of hooligans, my hands is on the tool again | |
| I' m bout to bust a Huey and spray up a f kin school again | |
| Chorus | |
| Outro: Bizarre | |
| Yeah.. D12. | |
| Devil' s Night.. part two.. | |
| The drama.. continues.. | |
| KaySlay.. hahahaha.. |
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