Winicumuhround
Winicumuhround

Redman - Winicumuhround Lyrics

Hip-Hop/Rap
Nov 22, 1994
53
Winicumuhround Music Video

Winicumuhround Lyrics

Yo, yo, Redman! Man, what the fuck?

The hype's got me, I knock 'em out the box then out socks
'Cause when I come around, niggas skate like the rocks
My block's hot, so give me all you got
When I'm done rocking, I leave you all doing the Bus Stop
My format spins wheels like Pat Sajak
I rub niggas out like Ajax now hit the playback
Look out, roast 'em like cookouts
I'm smoked out, all you MC's, pull your books out
Word is bond it's on I get it on like Marvin Gaye
Starving since the days of Kindergarten
When I die my ashes flip my coffin backwards
Blow shit up like the 4th of July, with half sticks
And on and on, to the break of Rae-Dawn Chong
I'm Killing You Softly with this song, with this bomb
I'm like the Bronx, 'cause I Boogie Down
I'm representing Jersey motherfucker, when I come around

Yo, yo, Redman! Man, what the fuck?

When I come around, homeboy watch your nuggets
(Ayo yo yo Redman, yo that was last album) Ayo fuck it, bust it
The top, notch, look over your sess spots
Get dumb like a whole bag of jumps with red tops
Regina Steamer Carpet Cleaner, I'm meaner
Then I'm iller than OJ, catching a misdemeanor
Boom-bash I set it off right (right)
I shut off your lights while you caught up in the heights
My lyrics starving, my crew runs like the mob and
The funk butter cup, 'cause I'm a bastard at robbing
I shake the valleys over Cali when I'm spliffed up
Rock a fifth up, that measure 9.0 on the Erichter
Are you tuned in to my tunes it's booming
Y'all niggas couldn't see me if y'all had zoom lens
I'm accurate like Acura, my style's
90 years maximum, fuel-injected like a Maxima
When I'm around, motherfuckers

Yo, yo, Redman! Man, what the fuck?

The way I get wreck y'all niggas call it mic check
I'm vexed and if I got an itchy finger like Bernard Geotz
With a pad and a pen I blend funky images
That leave your girl hemorrhaging for about two million and
Three years move along there's nothing to see here
If I wasn't nice motherfucker I wouldn't be here
Yeah, yeah, put metaphors inside a bracket
Def Squad's in the house and motherfucker we can back it
Come test your skills for real with a bomb bang boom bang
The sound makes your brains wet, with The Color Purple
On the freight train, the devil's the conductor
Let's take a trip to the dark side motherfuckers
My funky pattern takes interludes around Saturn
I'm more diesel than evil medieval like Sebastian
Don't try this at home kids, I zone with
E.T.'s, and other alien type of MC's
So throw your shit up in the sky, 'cause Redman's
About to get live, like one-two-five
I smoke High Times magazines when I lounge
And broken mics and cords is left when I come around, motherfucker

Yo, yo, Redman! Man, what the fuck?

Writer(s): Erick S. Sermon, Reggie Noble, Garry Marshall Shider, David Lee Spradley, George Jr. Clinton
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Word Collections Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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