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letra de blood on my chucks - bukshot

[verse 1: bukshot]
i think they get it now (now)
what they f-cking with (with)
i can smell they fear (fear)
ain’t that something b-tch
i’m the alien reaper like sigourney weaver
beat the drum of death (death), street sweeper (street sweeper)
ain’t got nothing on me, i came back and brought my cronies
helter skelter sh-t (sh-t), you ain’t scared then show me
meet my dead homie, mr. grey and r.o.c
blood dripping off my chucks, ain’t no make-believe
jason mask, but you already know that
you ain’t got to ask m.o.b. and ninjas that’s a cold fact
next door neighbors comе up missing in your cul-de-sac (sac)
that’s an imprint to k!llers, zodiac

[chorus: mr. grey & the r.o.c.]
blood on my chucks
shotgun offs
i don’t give a f-ck
blood on my chucks
blocka blocka
artillеry shocker
blocka blocka
die motherf-cker
blood in my cup
drink it all up
going f-cking nuts
blood on my chucks
blocka blocka
artillery shocker
blocka blocka
die motherf-cker
[verse 2: the r.o.c.]
blood’s on my nunchucks
swing for your head what
stalk you with my kicks bruh
what’s the brand like leather chucks
roll with the homies on purpose to destroy
all competition don’t exist or deploy
missiles at your whole camp (camp)
bit ’em like we all vamp (vamp)
pires are desired solve, our hunger’s got us so amped (amped)
the crew is so ghoulish
move cause we foolish
live in the ruins where your mind will go through it
insane, yes we are (are)
body’s an avatar (tar)
display it in the park (park) where the dead roams haunt (haunt)
beat is pumping fast, better scram before we hit you in yo dome with this chuck then wipe the blood from my kick b-tch

[chorus: mr. grey & the r.o.c.]
blood on my chucks
shotgun offs
i don’t give a f-ck
blood on my chucks
blocka blocka
artillery shocker
blocka blocka
die motherf-cker
blood in my cup
drink it all up
going f-cking nuts
blood on my chucks
blocka blocka
artillery shocker
blocka blocka
die motherf-cker
[verse 3: blaze ya dead homie]
i got yo blood on my chucks and yo forehead looking like cold cuts
pistol-whip it till yo skull blow up
b-tch you getting no love
drag yo body face down through the road (road)
it stumbled till there’s scuff marks on the soles (yeah)
gotta let ’em know so i keep a case loaded ready and set to blast (blast)
with the aim of first class (ha)
getting the last laugh
with the knife out, happens so fast
when i stab and i slash, my chucks in blood i leave a path
all pro blueprints, or star shoe-prints
all up over your clothes, see it was foolish (yeah)
you try to test and dead man who ain’t got sh-t to lose (nope)
and quick to get some blood on his shoes and make the news (now)

- bukshot

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