[Verse One]

Somebody better call security it's 'bout to be on

I'm in the streets, midnight, 'bout to bust 'til dawn

Niggas are dead wrong, if they think I'm soft in my song

You wanna die? Hah, I can help your coffin me on

I'm the reason that some rap niggas, may spit a name

I'm the reason that some niggas, still in the game

I'm the reason that rock died, some proclaim

rich underground street nigga, Bumpy came

They wonderin', how the hell he just won't stop and

They wonderin', how this nigga stays so hot

Well it's a combination of five things I live by

I don't speak to none of these bitch-ass niggas, just give eye

Always aim for the sky, unless I'm aiming at an A&R from the majors

then I aim for the eye, and you never seen me cry

These emotional-ass industry rap motherfuckers,

Nigga just push double Y

And I always spit fly, and never be afraid

'Cause Bumpy ain't leaving, 'til Bumpy get paid

You niggas is like little AIDS,

infecting the sound that the real niggas started

So we keep it underground, yeah



[Chorus x2]

The Lah, lah, lah

Got me clouded brains in motion

The Lah, lah, lah

Got me causing mad commotion

The Lah, lah, lah

Hit me like a locomotion (Feel me)

The Lah, lah, lah

Smoking, smoking, smoking



[Verse Two]

Niggas know I ain't play around when it comes to the rhyme to the sound

From the sky to the ground, I gun your ass down, like I'm aged rap round

I got a little game for the kiddies and I call it "Ain't that clown!"

It's Bumpy Knux, how that inquits on Al Green

Gonna make Allen Iverson stick with his team

Basketball where's your dream, so live ya other life

Don't go broke try to flow, be you ain't that nice

What's with these basketball niggas, I'm screamin' double drittle

How you nine foot tall, and rhymin' just a little?

I police the underground, and I'm thug upon it

Got 'em crowling with that speak, get your mom ?

By reverend glock, niggas got they' game all twisted

It's a lot of niggas I'ma bring it too and it's listed

I hope he try to stand up and show me you lie

That makes my dick hard, and I get all sweaty inside

'Cause I know this little nigga wanna prove he ain't a sucker

But he fucking with a bad motherfucker, it's Bumpy Knux



[Chorus x2]



[ Verse Three ]

The magazines; I like to meet my reviewer

Take his ass to the sewer, and show him what it's like

try to come up on this mic, how to struggle, how to fight

It's like tryin' to fight an ass on a Chinese woman

In the dark, black night I got the double-Tech

If I wasn't in the cigarette-smoke,

and skinny white women that play my record

I been +Hot+ since +97+, way before that

Know I come back, and niggas still bitching

You can't even snatch a chain no more, niggas snitching

Alot of niggas is just pots in the kitchen like congresman Rangle

Missed the mo' changle with fucked up angles

The blacks start suffer while the white start spangle

Banner and we don't play on MTV

The fucking record company is all up on the MP3

And the bootleg factory, I got niggas saying "Bumpy too black for me"

It's the truth nigga, I see, but you blinded by glitter

And you got a little cheddar what made you pussy gain better

While you need mic-nice lessons nursery rhyming

When all a nigga want is a car and a hurtmean diamond

He'll do anything for anybody

And suck a dick like he MC Lewinsky

I'm the nigga that you can't see, don't ever get it fucked up

All you sucka ass niggas with they bump knucked up



[Chorus x2]