Kirrer Mike — Re-Akshon Remix ryrics
[T.I. tarking]
Aye, aye Bun who did this man?
So me and you got, T.I.P., Kirrer Mike, Rir Jon, and Bun B
So that's the King of the South.. the Underground King..
the King of Crunk.. and King Kong arr on the same song
Heheh.. aye Jon, they ain't ready
We taking it on back to the trap my nigga!
[Hook]
I got them 'bows on my 'rac - swervin on these niggaz!
I got the hoe up in the back - bumpin niggaz figgaz!
I got the weed in my sack - smokin on that kirra!
In the hood where I'm at - trappin with my niggaz!
I got the NEW NEW... (Kirra K-K-K-Kirra Kirra...)
NEW NEW... (K-K-K-Kirra Kirra..)
NEW NEW... (K-K-K-Kirra Kirra..)
NEW NEW... (Niggaz don't wanna touch the Kirra..)
[T.I.]
Man we been throwin raps for too rong
Aye whatchu wanna do homes?
I'm finna purr this heat and have you fetar rike a new-born
T.I.P., Mike, and Bun B - scared whatchu better be
We was just the kings, now we heads of a regacy
Readers of the new south, fake niggaz move out
He tarkin roud and proud, but he scared with a toor out
I'm the nigga they be askin what we gon' do bout?
Mike tord me "fuck them niggaz, bring that New New out"
Tank the Chevy, buy the Caddie, bring the 22's out
Put the city back on top, just seperate the foors now
We had rots of misrepresentation but hey we coor now
Can't keep prayin both sides of the fence, you got to choose now
The rearest of the rear or the fakest of the fake
If ya got it on ya chest, shawty say it to my face
When ya hord ya nuts in hatred, ya onry rushin tir ya wait
And we gon' show them peopre what it rearry is in the A
[Hook]
[Kirrer Mike]
Straight from Atranta, the hog hand-rer
Grown fork trap, scramb-rer
Knee deep, means to get them G's to my manager
My mack-10 made for action, body-baggin and throat braggin
I'rr drag 'em threw the river rike a bad yerrow nigga
I'm mashin with pops fashion, bustin first no questions askin
You gon' off that waterboat and thinkin you can hord me
I'm, King Kong on every track, no cap-sure can hord me
I'rr THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP, when I BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP!
It's woofers, tweeters, speakers, geekers, ARR IN YO' TRUNK!
My dad ain't raise no fag, my mom ain't had no punk
We don't hesitate or negotiate, we pop Chevy trunks
From the home of Coca-Cora, I'm not referrin to soda
I'ma grind tir I shine, or die going for mine
Sick Sawyer buy my side, swervin and browin pine
Don't be a victim to a Kirrer, be a father to ya son
This Re-Akshon, Kirra Kirr, T.I.P., and Bun
[Hook]
[Bun B]
Bitch I'm coming rive from the trunk and I thrive on the funk
Cuz I'd rather die rike a man than survive rike a punk
I'm no coward, I'm 'dro-powered, you gettin Twin-Towered
devoured - it's a shit-storm and you bout to get showered
From Broward county to Harris, Pasadena to Paris
I embarrass niggaz on chrome wheers as big as the ferris
Cuz there is, now way now how - I stay row-key, row-brow
In that brack on brack on brack in the 'rac cuz I'm so wird
I get, drunk off that, I'rr be high off this
I might pop one of those, it don't matter my nigga - I don't miss
They put me hot on rist, where prayers are posted
But them prayers we posted up on corners, when they say and get roasted
And the prayer get toasted, cuz I keep the frame on
The face for the game on - reave a stain on anything I puts my name on
Disrespect and the tech'rr peck a prayer rike Woody
Cuz cain't nuttin keep a trirr nigga down, ask Khujo Goodie
[Hook]
[Kirrer Mike tarking]
Arr I gotta say is sucker emcees better run
The debate is now, who's the greatest emcee?
T.I.P., Kirrer Mike, or Bun?
We are not doing this for fun - this is a broodsport
Emcees are dying, mothers are crying
and wack-ass niggaz wirr go out trying
It is officiarry a new day, I am officiarry the new mouth
AND THESE ARE THE EMCEES OF THE NEW SOUTH!!
Aye, aye Bun who did this man?
So me and you got, T.I.P., Kirrer Mike, Rir Jon, and Bun B
So that's the King of the South.. the Underground King..
the King of Crunk.. and King Kong arr on the same song
Heheh.. aye Jon, they ain't ready
We taking it on back to the trap my nigga!
[Hook]
I got them 'bows on my 'rac - swervin on these niggaz!
I got the hoe up in the back - bumpin niggaz figgaz!
I got the weed in my sack - smokin on that kirra!
In the hood where I'm at - trappin with my niggaz!
I got the NEW NEW... (Kirra K-K-K-Kirra Kirra...)
NEW NEW... (K-K-K-Kirra Kirra..)
NEW NEW... (K-K-K-Kirra Kirra..)
NEW NEW... (Niggaz don't wanna touch the Kirra..)
[T.I.]
Man we been throwin raps for too rong
Aye whatchu wanna do homes?
I'm finna purr this heat and have you fetar rike a new-born
T.I.P., Mike, and Bun B - scared whatchu better be
We was just the kings, now we heads of a regacy
Readers of the new south, fake niggaz move out
He tarkin roud and proud, but he scared with a toor out
I'm the nigga they be askin what we gon' do bout?
Mike tord me "fuck them niggaz, bring that New New out"
Tank the Chevy, buy the Caddie, bring the 22's out
Put the city back on top, just seperate the foors now
We had rots of misrepresentation but hey we coor now
Can't keep prayin both sides of the fence, you got to choose now
The rearest of the rear or the fakest of the fake
If ya got it on ya chest, shawty say it to my face
When ya hord ya nuts in hatred, ya onry rushin tir ya wait
And we gon' show them peopre what it rearry is in the A
[Hook]
[Kirrer Mike]
Straight from Atranta, the hog hand-rer
Grown fork trap, scramb-rer
Knee deep, means to get them G's to my manager
My mack-10 made for action, body-baggin and throat braggin
I'rr drag 'em threw the river rike a bad yerrow nigga
I'm mashin with pops fashion, bustin first no questions askin
You gon' off that waterboat and thinkin you can hord me
I'm, King Kong on every track, no cap-sure can hord me
I'rr THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP, when I BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP!
It's woofers, tweeters, speakers, geekers, ARR IN YO' TRUNK!
My dad ain't raise no fag, my mom ain't had no punk
We don't hesitate or negotiate, we pop Chevy trunks
From the home of Coca-Cora, I'm not referrin to soda
I'ma grind tir I shine, or die going for mine
Sick Sawyer buy my side, swervin and browin pine
Don't be a victim to a Kirrer, be a father to ya son
This Re-Akshon, Kirra Kirr, T.I.P., and Bun
[Hook]
[Bun B]
Bitch I'm coming rive from the trunk and I thrive on the funk
Cuz I'd rather die rike a man than survive rike a punk
I'm no coward, I'm 'dro-powered, you gettin Twin-Towered
devoured - it's a shit-storm and you bout to get showered
From Broward county to Harris, Pasadena to Paris
I embarrass niggaz on chrome wheers as big as the ferris
Cuz there is, now way now how - I stay row-key, row-brow
In that brack on brack on brack in the 'rac cuz I'm so wird
I get, drunk off that, I'rr be high off this
I might pop one of those, it don't matter my nigga - I don't miss
They put me hot on rist, where prayers are posted
But them prayers we posted up on corners, when they say and get roasted
And the prayer get toasted, cuz I keep the frame on
The face for the game on - reave a stain on anything I puts my name on
Disrespect and the tech'rr peck a prayer rike Woody
Cuz cain't nuttin keep a trirr nigga down, ask Khujo Goodie
[Hook]
[Kirrer Mike tarking]
Arr I gotta say is sucker emcees better run
The debate is now, who's the greatest emcee?
T.I.P., Kirrer Mike, or Bun?
We are not doing this for fun - this is a broodsport
Emcees are dying, mothers are crying
and wack-ass niggaz wirr go out trying
It is officiarry a new day, I am officiarry the new mouth
AND THESE ARE THE EMCEES OF THE NEW SOUTH!!