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letra de fight music - bun b & cory mo

[verse 1: grafh]
ay, stupid, ay, ay, ay
what’s up? my name grafh, hoe
ay, ay, bun-beata what’s up?
cory mo, what’s up?
ny, sh-t, 1-2

i drops a few z’s
and i ball all day the shot clock it couldn’t move me
i hop scotch in a two seats
y’all are bad actors i stopped watchin’ those movies
my rocks top my jewelry
i got some of these rap n—-s tryna c-ck block my groupies (d-ckin’)
cannot stop my 2-3 when the shots pop you can’t c-ck block my uzi, pr-ck
just ask for me, i’m ghetto jesus so prayin’ to gods blasphemy
i’m a new york masterpiece
n—- my instagram paint is like new york fashion week, n—-
the half you see is mobb deep havoc after p i’m jamaica queens master p
im magnifique the coke is pure the crack is cheap
the fake went back to sleep wе outside wit it

[chorus: bun b]
take ya hands up, put ya gloves on
stеp yo ass in the ring and get yo thug on
its just two of us, me and you, so playa you already know what we need to do, sh-t
we goin’ man to man and throwin’ hand to hand
till theres only one left, you understand, my man?
finna let these left hands and these rights out
and if i land one then its lights out
n—- it’s fight night
[verse 2: bun b]
you know that i’m the last of a dyin’ breed
raised up in a hood full of dire need
in a neighborhood where the streets raise you
and trust me theres n0body there comin’ to save you
what do you do when the pressure gets applied
and if you don’t stand up for yourself somebody dies
do you have the pride, the stamina, and the will
to tell a hater f-ck all that and keep it trill?
sh-t, you got d-mn right and you better know that
so don’t bring it to me if you don’t want the blow back
i brought term and grafh a literal pro pack
so you gon start on yo feet, but end up on yo back
this a cory mo track, don’t even try it
if you ain’t ready to die behind your words than keep quiet
from port arthur to h-town to jamaica queens
you better have your gloves on b-tch when we make the scene
for real

[chorus: bun b]
take ya hands up, put ya gloves on
step yo ass in the ring and get yo thug on
its just two of us, me and you, so playa you already know what we need to do, sh-t
we goin’ man to man and throwin’ hand to hand
till theres only one left, you understand, my man?
finna let these left hands and these rights out
and if i land one then its lights out
n—- it’s fight night
[verse 3: termanology]
cannibalism is livin’ up my metabolism
my brother bunny called me up i’m up, i’m ridin’ wit him
we so trill, you low k!ll, we glow bill
i put the gun in your hand and still you won’t k!ll
i shoulda laid back like a mazda
f-ck i’m out i’d rather hit my baby mama
international player bun & pimp c
but this the playa’s anthem like b.i.g (baby baby)
twenty twenty-six b-tch we finna get rich
well more rich cause b-tch we been rich
this thug life b-tch f-ck ice
hope they took up on some beans and rice (goya)
and i hope its seasoned right
c-c’s on the chanel i stay up in some grails
hands full of bling clips on the handle
the size of yao ming we some underground kings

- bun b cory mo

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