Who Got Da Props

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Buckshot] Put up – what up? Bo! Bo! Bo! Suckers wanna flow, but they got no show So, I'ma grab the mic, flip a script and leave ya stunned Buckshot's the one that gets the job done Mic check, I get paid to wreck ya set Get ready and jet, 'cause I'm a threat to your fret No holds barred, incomplete move fakers Best to play the back and watch your girl, I might take her If she's a crab, I'ma diss her, then slide If she try to riff, I got my Smith on my side Word to God, here I come, so make–way Rugged and raw, killin' your set every day Microphone check, one, two, here we go And I'ma let you know–who got the flow Spitting my verbs like an automatic weapon Suckers, keep steppin' – 'cause I'ma let you know [Chorus: Black Moon, ('Wild Style' sample scratched by Evil Dee)] Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") [Verse 2: Buckshot] One Mississippi, two Mississippi Sucker tried to diss me, so I played him like a hippie from the 60s But I'ma get paid from the 90s Quick to play you Little Rascals out like Stymie Kickin' flavor with my Life Saver techniques Guaranteed to move feets, and I'll go on for weeks Maybe years, if my peers give me ears to fill Lick off a shot and act ill, parlay, then chill See, I've paid my dues, now you can't tell me nothing This is dedicated to the ones who kept frontin' The ones who tried to diss and pose high? Ohh, no! Just 'cause you had 'Lo? See, now I got dough And I'm paid out my rectum, meaning my backbone Grab the mic, flip a mad script to your dome Suckers, I kick 'em like Tae Kwon Do Guess and 'Lo, from head to toe, to let you know [Chorus: Black Moon, ('Wild Style' sample scratched by Evil Dee)] Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") [Verse 3: Buckshot] I'm the rugged operator, like Arnold Schwarzenegger Buckshot quick to play a nigga like Sega Smooth trigger-happy, snappy, keep my hair nappy When I swing an ep', girls call me 'Big Pappy' I used to play a game called 'Ring Around The Rosey' But now I play the mic, that's why the whole world knows me I'm sort of like a Chevy, heavy when I bumrush You'd better bring your whole damn crew, or get your head crushed – sucka 'Cause I'ma set it off with one shot One trigger, one nigga, 'nough heads drop Don't even try to play me out, cause static Buckshot Shorty – he sounds like an automatic Rip the set, my threads mad tight 'Cause I rocks the mic and keeps the crowd hype Straight from Bumrush, I crush and cause chaos, yo And I'ma let you know [Chorus: Black Moon, ('Wild Style' sample scratched by Evil Dee)] Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") [Verse 4: Buckshot] One, two, melodies chosen Before I flip a script, you know I must kick ya doors in Into the stage of the Buckshot Shorty Son, pass the boom, keep the top on a 40 Never ever ever get played – kill that! Bust a mad cap in your back, 'cause I'm all that Straight from Crooklyn, better known as Brooklyn E. loop the hook in – your whole beat's took'n Must take charge, Bogart – I'm the man Bust my plan, and feeds back all my fan Muss-out crews, pay dues, I never lose When I break off fools – wake up, yo, don't snooze Bust a move, I get smooth like rowie Kickin' like the Four Horsemen – yeah, you know me Boomin' like a speaker with my hundred-dollar sneakers Baggy black jeans, knapsack, and my beeper Keep a fresh cut, never see me with a busted 'fro And I'ma let you know... [Chorus: Black Moon, ('Wild Style' sample scratched by Evil Dee)] Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") Who got the props? ("C'mon!") 5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!") [Outro *only the "Evil Dee's Deadly Mix" version*] Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah We just wanna let you all–y'all know who got the props! Yeah! Yeah! Check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out, yo – Chuck Chillout – yes, he gots the props! Red Alert – yes, he gots the props! Kid Capri – yes, he got the props! Awesome Two – yes, they gots the props! Bobbito – yes, he gots the props! Stretch Armstrong – yes, he gots the props! Beatminerz – yes, they gots the props! The whole fam – yes, they gots the props! Yeah! That's right! We got the props, yeah! My man Rock on the ave... F.A.P. in full effect! Representin'! Yeah, that's my right! My man Evil Dee! My man Mick! In effect! My man Kev! Flex! Represent, y'all! Yeah...