Gorrilla Musik Lyrics - Cinecrack - J.r. Writer

(Chorus) 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? 

(Verse) 

yo, yo yo . i got them A bars, straight hard 

dont fuck around wit j.r. 

i play hard, i'm a-rod 

you brothers need a day job (ok pause) 

i'm on deck, and sucker i don't play cards 

hip-hop was dead til i went and dug it out the grave yard (yard) 

you must be ray charles you seen the dood-us eetha 

those are rabans, nigga these are judith leevis (what's the difference?) 

that's a payed grand, sittin on ya scooby feautures 

i'm a made man, this is how i do it skeeza 

non-believers know that writer be grimey 

i'm as scariest as central park night in the 90's 

wrist icey and shiny (bling!), click right there behind me 

ride slow, eyes so slow, the ikey be chinese (chinky!) 

i run wit goons of niggas, certified goonie niggas (who dat?) 

kill you all over nuttin, you now, the stupid niggas (stupid!) 

you's a victim when you come against the great 

don't think cuz im light skind-ed i won't punch you in ya face (werd!) 

i be rumblin', runnin through the jungle with the apes 

have you stumblin, you brothas better pump up on ya breaks 

get your jaw wired just for mublin the jakes 

niggas turned into mariah when they run up in the place, for the judge to give a break 

when i race my car (man), and run over these little rats and my k-a-r 

and this aim a-r (click-clack) and it's mayday paw 

this ain't play-play ya'll, dont try to play j.r. 

i'm hot, it don't stop; i be spazzin, why not 

blowin pot out the spot, nigga pass the eye-drops 

eyes so red (what?, listen, i can pass for cyclops (clops) 

givin mike wippings like im jackson 5 pops (RIOT!) 

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(Chorus) 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

the typa shit the hustles gon' make a killen to it 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

i'ma show these little monkeys how gorillas do it 

(Verse) 

Photos 

i'm from the gutter miss, rubber grips 

leave you niggas mother-less, brother-less 

whoever you runnin wit'll touch ya dick; stuffed wit clips (clips!) 

i must admit, ya brothers it 

but i will stick a knife in yo ass if you don't cut the shit 

on a muscle tip (what?), i muscle it 

spark em down, swing my arms around til a muscle rip (blaooww) 

who could fuck with this, god im next 

you ridin dirty cuz, you aint hit the car wash yet 

i see paper, different kind of cars off set 

3 weeks later, you ain't get ya car washed yet (damn.) 

ask ya broad i'm fresh (fresh!), the champion of the hood 

champion hood (and what), shit, i make champion look good 

unstood im from the back block (block), where they pack glocks 

and you couldnt stop em from ridin (with what?), wit a padlock (nope) 

ask not, ya oc it's a black box 

bullets break em in half, call em snap shots 

i aint gotta tussle 

i keep myself outta truble 

i got gorrillas that'll sent you guys in duffles (duffles) 

you guys'll be puzzled, cuz listen i'm too fly to snuff you 

i shoot ya dudes down up, don't mean to pop ya bubble 

but ima click clacka (clacka), another clip clappa (clappa) 

large cake, scarface on the big plasma 

shoulda been in notorious (why?) forget rappin 

cuz shit, you aint actin big, you're a big actor (actor) 

quit the chit chatter, when would all this chatter stop (huh) 

before talkin, think about the trash you pop 

i'll have you mournin (mournin), wishin you aint pass my block 

put a light in ya coffin, just so you could shadow box 

(Chorus) 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

the typa shit the hustles gon' make a killen to it 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

what, what? gorilla musik 

i'ma show these little monkeys how gorillas do it