Pronto - CRU

TONIGHT…

Tonight the rhythm blunt is gonna rip the mic

SMOKE BLUNTS ALL NIGHT LONG

Baby, all night long

DAYLIGHT

Daylight you still be rockin' with the Rhythm Blunt… Cru

And we’ll rock on and on and on and on…

Mic check 1 to get ready, hon

Peace to the rhythm blunt Cru packin guns

And give me some funk that’s wild and

Poundin

And i’ll get nastier than Florida Evans doo-doo brownin

Astoundin

Gives the peace sign like Jimmy Snuka

And have ya head bobbin like a Hunts Point hooker

I’m in there like swimwear

Oh yeah

No diggi

And when I shoot my bows, you’d think my name was Riddick

Zunga zung, zunga zunga zeng (ZUNGA ZUNG, ZUNGA ZUNGA ZENG)

And my favorite jams Method Man by Wu-Tang

Comin funkadelik cuz I grooves thats my nation

When I grabs the mic I gets the sennn-sation

Flip the script like a angry actor shake or poke ya

I’ll wet ya with my supa-soaka

Cuz when I display my strong flow

I gotcha in the sleeper like Chief Jay Strongbow

HEYYA, HEYYA, HEYYA HO

Pass the peice of steel to the one Chadio

And let me crush it

With a new style few pile peices and bits

Into hits

Like this here shit

So calm down clown

When I come around

I’m not happy slappy, walkin town with a frown

Get down, get down with the rhythm in your ear

And peep out the sound from here

To Zaire

If this don’t work, things get steep and deep

I’m runnin in the streets

And I’m playin for keeps

For now I crack heads, but don’t mistake me for a white rock

Keep my jail ceasar, instead of a nasty tight lock

Dread get me fed

End up dead

Cuz I’m phsyco

Choppin you down is the route that I might go

And that goes

For all my enemies and my foes

Pronto, pronto

(repeat 4X)

PRONTO!

Nigga gimme yours

All a bitch could do for me is

Eat dick and drop her drawers

In L.I.P

This is how we be

Snappin necks

Stashin checks

And next on the pussy

Neva with tha hoes cuz the hoes is screamin rape

Buff my knot while I peep out my Khalid Muhammad tapes

Done, now I’m walkin thru her crib in my undies

Honie in the back room screamin roll bundi

Cuz when I knock da boots, the horror, the horror

I’m orphan annie, hon, see ya tomorrow, tomorrow

Time to pick up Chad, Ha and some ism, damn, oh no

I’m kinda low

Go to willis avenue and tell jamaican J

I’d gladly pay him tuesday for a bag of boom today

(AAHHHH!)

You got the boom, it’s over

I’m behind the wheel, so Cha’s the designated roller

Cha pass to chad pass to the Y-O-G

We takin part of this to Dr. Dre on Sister Dee

It’s like that yo (THAT YO)

Like that yo (THAT YO)

And if you ask what’s in your mouth, it’s my fat ballz, yo

Crazy legit the ill shit’s neccessary

To make you dance ya ass off like Fred «Rerun» Berry

Very much a love bug like Herbie

I got crazy game, kerbie, kerbie

You got crazy game and I got crazy gats

And we slam like a batterin ram (so brotha step back)

It’s the one and only, only one

That leaves niggas strung

By the flip of a lip, by the flung

Of a tongue

Couldn’t care less if the world blew up

But I wanna blow up before it blows

Thru flows

Of persistance

Which make a difference

In my everyday existence

Causin me to go the long distance

But back to a simple style and type format

As I stomp on comp just like a doormat

This type stuff’s under lock and key (key)

Chad is a ruff as ruff can be (be)

Now how ruff can that be, well let’s go figa

Ruffa than son of sam with a slam trigga

Ruffa than a criminal takin a liquor swigga

Ruffa than the voice on that kid Lord Digga

So toodaloo, ta-ta, cheerio

This here shit is type Pronto

Shat CRU, CRU, CRU

Whaaat… whaat