Lil Jon

Lil Jon - BME Click lyrics

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Verse 1 Bezel 

Whateva's arguing goin by ayi yi yi 

Drop some acid in my drink see till I die

My girls go some side 

She better split her thighs and let me here an ayi yi yi 

They say if you wait a long time good things to come 

Drinks come you better move if you want some 

Patient dude I can't wait no more 

Been layin fools down way fore that 8ball song 

I Like that benze you know it's comin man 

But you'ze a h** I think you jwanna man 

Snatch you from the T 12 

This is ATL 

The sickest dude they ask hey you L 

Atomville still ain't change 

It still the same 

Knockin fellas off the chain and the cane 

They livin on fantasy island 

Double move better quake its Atlanta ??? 



Verse 2 Don P 

It's your boy Don P 

AKA get away from me 

I don't play I just rap 

Don't You see n***a I don't hide 

Never hade a watch so never ahead of time 

Always had money but always stay on the grind 

Girls give me head so I gotta minimize 

I done did a million crimes

Now gotta be steppin like I got platnium 

Gimme some space nigga back back some

Ain't that smart but ain't that dumb

All these h** n***az know I gotta keep it crunk 

I drop hits nigga I drop bombs 

F**k give me space I'ma f**kin song 

N***a look n***a talkin bout lets do it 

Kings of crunk nigga comin through yo hood 

Bi*ch 



Verse 3 Black Boi 

See I ain't come to play 

I came to spit bars and shot cars 

To let you n***az know where I stay 

280 high all day to mister die bay 

On my high way 

Eastside we on that rem and purple round my way 

Okay boy here to spit it's Black Boi 

That's the spit and I'm real wit this sh** 

I rip drawers off and take yo balls off 

Cuz you knew when you came in my room girl you were so sawed off 

Was I wrote off? Oh Nooo

I'm scrapp at it bi*ch 

Before you cross the door and dats fa sho 

When you get up out the car Bi*ch don't slam the door 

Motherfu****



Verse 3 Dirty Mouth 

ATL is my home 

And you know I keep that chrome 

For the ones talkin sh*t 

They better leave me alone 

I ain't playin these games 

I'm just out here for the fame 

Gettin this money is how I see gettin blow from the same 

Keep your distance fore I start movin this chain 

This hollow tip is gone be rainin on top of you brain 

Hot like lava I'm loadin up this chrome problem solva 

Watch your back cuz here I come droppin bodies like bombers 

This smith n wessen gonna teach you a lesson 

All you ni**az keep on stressin how we smoke up the essence 

This purple session gone keep a n***a full of confession 

Now watch when I'm kickin in your purse I keep the heat for protection 

Now gimme your rouger 

This motherfu**** damn make me shoot 

This motherfu**** think I playin rouger the ??? 

They think I playin I told you n***az don't play me for lame 

This motherfu**** don't wanna listen I'ma take his ass out the game bi*ch 



Verse 4 LA 

T-R-Y me p**** n***a

Lil LA up off in this bi*ch 

Ready to bust yo fu**** sh** 

Bi*ch rich n***a if you wanna talk that bullsh** 

Gone hate if you ain't split I'ma split ya bait 

From the bottom to the top

Top to bottom you will go 

Naw h** I ain't a n***a to be fu**** wit tho

Split him hit him kill him 

Tear that n***az ass up 

I kill for fun mayne and 

I ain't jokin mayne 

What's up back up f*** n***a 

Who you takin to 

That scaredy ass n***a we come for you 

If you wanna talk sh** better be prepaired 

To live and die in the motherfu**** ATL, yeah



Verse 5 Yo Gotti 

Nothin like a good ass whuppin to set it off 

Now little bi*ch you p**** ass soft 

See little n***az ain't gone fight 

So I'ma shoot first 

Big n***a wanna hustle wit them big handle works 

Decatur to begin Decatur to the end 

H** click mo bi*ch better them end 

Chyna and fate wishin yo bi*ch ass dead

Crunker then a dog in the south west gate 

I got h*** shakin they ass I got it made 

Real bed bust head with a work and the mail 

What's that smell you dead in the hotel 

No evidence cuz the gun in the chair 

Cramp in my leg sittin and waitin 

Lil Jon and the eastside boyz finna put they hands on ya 

Got claim on yo life the hitman I beef 

If you wanna hall at the streets some and see me 



Verse 6 Bo Hagon 

I can't feel the ground the beneath me 

one of these h*** down to freek me 

Haters love to shoot rounds to leek 

Family sittin around to weap me 

Life as a hustla and everyday struggler 

Life is a juggler if you try to trouble us 

You better knuckle up 

The streets they know what it is 

They know the name they know the real 

They go for the kill hop in the lack flash ya grill

Show your throw throw your bows

Stay on yo toes and don't trust these h*** 

Do your part do your thang 

Always put money before the fame 



Verse 7 Lil Bo 

These n***az don't wanna see me 

They don't wanna hate on me 

You know what I do my G 

84 ride my cheavy 

Now I can get my nine eleven 

And get my escolade 

Bout to hit the corner and let that thang spray 

Reppin that GA decatur is where I stay 

Nothin but real n***az and bi*ches out here by my way 

Lil Bo I be that n***a quick to pull a trigger 

Buss a lead in the head of a f*** n***a 



Verse 8 Big Sam 

Woke up this mornin n***a 

With a pump and my hand on the trigger 

I had a dream I was being hate on by these f*** n***az 

These n***az don't let me slip now 

On to my ???? less now 

Franly I'm hot and pissed 

This sh** is ludacris 

Same n***az that threw and grew up

And them same n***az get they wig slpit 

So keep ??? talkin and get yout ass whipped 

Motherfu**** you must not know who you fu**** wit 

I'm DJ 64 that n***a XL 

Bi*ch say that sh** that keep real 

You bi*ch bi*ch h** h** 

Ass ass n***a n***a
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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