Punchline

Punchline - Punch n words lyrics

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[Chorus: Both]

Hello How ya doin? Hope ya feelin fine

We came to take up some of your time if you don't mind

We came to represent and put it down for yall

And spit a few bars about who we are



[Punch (Words)]

(So what's your name?) Puncline

(And where you from?) The Lower

And if you caught without a vest then you might be over

(You got a girl?) Naw I don't erally trust these broads

And the only time I'm happy's when they suckin me off

(What pisses you off?) When bitches act too eager

Thinkin cause she sucked you off that you gotta eat her

Then there's all those dick-riders and they so-called friends

Wanna down your bottle of Hen and ain't chipped in

(Continue) OK lets see whats next on the menu

Fights break out when we headline the venue

Go against Punch and Words, why bother

I spit your own rhyme and make it sound hotter

Girls holler, on some engagement shit

Now these chicks be dyin to get a ring like the Knicks

My style switched up, now my rhyme's the best

Back then, niggas said I rhyme too complex

Back then I was the best in my housin complex

Now its 10 G's a rhyme, Punchline special guest

And out tha test press, you get no shine

They skip past your verse and check for mine

Ahead of the time, turn your clocks an hour behind

Cause yall just sayin rhymes I said in '89

Crazy wit rhymes, dare a nigga to try this

Spray the whole City up like the West Nile Virus



[Chorus:]

If you people wanna party tonight

Then you can hop in, come along for the ride

We came to wile out for the rest of the night

Punch and Words live right before your eyes

My ladies if you wit me fuck this party, let's slide

Let's go and get a room at the 'telly tonight

You rappers had your chance, its a must we shine

It's been a long time but its down, we rhyme



[Words (Punch)]

(And what's your name?) Words

(And where you from?) Brooklyn

Its the home of the crooks that pack central bookin

(You got a girl?) Yeah she ugly but she good at cookin

And I ain't messin wit no chick if she ain't gushin

18 and over, (What you drive?) Cheuffer

(And how you feel about these rapper's careers?) 

They over poetic and bald headed.  

My peeps shoplift in malls

And return the clothes just for store credit

Yall'll get it, either la-ter or sooner

Gettin played on your CD, tape, and your tuner

Its a new day, stepped in this age of computers

A million downloads gettin paid by consumers

I kill rappers, I don't respect they death

I just go to the wake to get the extra press

Yall seen in this game as a thick chain rapper

I'm Words, your ghostwriter, my nickname Casper

Quick brain and able to think way faster

feel pain, migraines and ribcage fractures

Frames, slit veins, stitched and patched up

Eulogy, pastor, grave came after

Afraid yall rappers, like to lose

You better than Words? You must got out lifes confused

Impress the public. Put it out so heads can love it

Above average, my ad-libs got an extra budget.



[Chorus]
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

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Language: English

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