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Lyrify.me

Tango and Cash by Will Tell Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2000

[Hook: Pumpkinhead]
Hit the floor, keep moving (What?)
Bump this in your ride—it’s that jeep music (Oh aight)
All my thugs in the club, smoke your weed to it
You paid for that shit? Nigga, we boost it (Tango and cash)
Brooklyn gon’ run through it (BK)
You know we get down when it come to it (No doubt)
All my real shorties come thug to it (Come on, come on)
So when we spit rounds, you better run, stupid (Tango and cash)

[Verse 1: Pumpkinhead]
I got a lot to do and little time to do it
Those who try to stop me’ll swimming in they body fluids
It’s BK, bitch. Brooklyn Ac’ is the unit
Got no love—for chumps, I’ll rip the wings off of cupid
Fully strapped bully raps push your hoodie back
You rookie cats. Try to fuck with me, get your cookie cracked
React. I’ll swim a hundred laps around the Hudson, busting—bust your gats
You falling off but, this time, you ain’t coming back
I spit four hundred years until my lungs collapse
I’ll spit ‘til my mouth is dry and my tongue is black
Break [you calm?] like a running back
Brooklyn niggas be thugging tracks—you see a hundred flags from one attack
[Hook: Pumpkinhead]
Hit the floor, keep moving (What?)
Bump this in your ride—it’s that jeep music (Oh aight)
All my thugs in the club, smoke your weed to it
You paid for that shit? Nigga, we boost it (Tango and cash)
Brooklyn gon’ run through it (BK)
You know we get down when it come to it (No doubt)
All my real shorties come thug to it (Come on, come on)
So when we spit rounds, you better run, stupid (Tango and cash)

[Verse 2: Pumpkinhead]
Me and Will, we like tango and cash
‘Cause we the type of niggas that make angels get mad
I’m hanging your staff on flagposts. You a tadpole
Little nigga. A little liquor got you feeling bigger
But you get put on pause. My guns is like menopause
Bloody your drawers, blood on the door
Breaking your jaw, put your face through the floor. We taking it all
Titles and plaques. You bite me, I’m biting you back
Homicidal raps make the Bible crack
Blow up vital stats ‘til the line is flat
Take your skullcap and fly it back
My niggas get high on this track
All my bitches in the club, run your thighs to this track
All y’all niggas that be hating gonna die to this track
I’ll spit thirty G’s on a track, the price of a Ac’
Blunted Soldiers for life—ain’t nothing fucking with that
And that’s more than real, nigga—just look at my tat
[Hook: Pumpkinhead]
Hit the floor, keep moving (What?)
Bump this in your ride—it’s that jeep music (Oh aight)
All my thugs in the club, smoke your weed to it
You paid for that shit? Nigga, we boost it (Tango and cash)
Brooklyn gon’ run through it (BK)
You know we get down when it come to it (No doubt)
All my real shorties come thug to it (Come on, come on)
So when we spit rounds, you better run, stupid (Tango and cash)

[Outro: Pumpkinhead]
Yeah. Pumpkinhead, Will Tell. Another one. We adding on and we ain’t stopping, you heard? Yeah. We out like that. O.B.S., Brooklyn Ac’