Break What? Lyrics
| Song | Break What? |
| Artist | Gravediggaz |
| Album | 6 Feet Under |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Hamilton | |
| **** ya niggas, real mutha****as what? | |
| [Chorus 4X: Frukwan] | |
| Wanna break? Wanna break, break | |
| Yo, what ya wanna break, nigga break | |
| Break what, nigga, what | |
| [Frukwan] | |
| First rule, ya mistake | |
| The phenomenal stomp the Earth are bombin you | |
| It's all my chronicle, particle and rich | |
| Over original scripts, begger be choose | |
| Let off three shots, be confronted wit the bad news | |
| Long as mutha****as corrupt, infiltrate the state | |
| Hit him wit graze, throw an earthquake | |
| Yo fraction, I'm settin off a chain reaction | |
| That increase, long as mutha****as bust police | |
| Bloodsheed, mutts and gruts | |
| The wonder bread buds, a million black mutha****a | |
| Head to junk, Devil schemin up plans to plot | |
| It's gettin hot, usin our own, to start the clock | |
| Yo, I'm only fightin for what a brother deserve | |
| Bein God spreadin the gold, roll up on the reserve | |
| Blood, sweat and tears for years yo | |
| I'm fed up blown when mutha****as take it outta they own | |
| [Chorus x4] | |
| [Poetic] | |
| I watch thru my infrared green vision binocs' | |
| Storm in the desert, clever as a fox | |
| Bolt, wit measures in the clock, huh | |
| Seven stealth bomber nine, helicopt' drop | |
| The Gravedigga parachute wit the black roots | |
| Fall outta the sky like rain, as the soldier train | |
| To take back the Earth, the terrain | |
| We overcame fear, now prepare for pain | |
| First the soul from the rap world, all of ya villains | |
| That taught ya black children, wit rats in they buildin | |
| Singin on hydro, squatterin millions | |
| Or live up in gold, and fulfillions of killin | |
| And of ya plans strick, my hand grips a mic | |
| And transmits co-ordinates that float like it on a script | |
| Break down ya character flaws, to the masses | |
| Burn ya to ashes, and suck you wit acid | |
| [Chorus x4] | |
| [Frukwan] | |
| Yo, I can't be denied, gots to try | |
| Many will die, in the blink of an eye | |
| Nigga like me will survive | |
| Cannons and guns, gotta overcome the run | |
| Gots to chill, set packs of bill | |
| Shine my gift, or the uplifted brother that stiff and lost | |
| Trynna stear a brother back to cost | |
| Ready to try, ready to die | |
| Lyrical guns, lyrics fire | |
| What, ya outta line, forced wit pen | |
| Self defense, whackin the Timbs | |
| Strive to survive, but build my strength | |
| Finito, stampedro, don't wanna will a negro | |
| Ready to break (Break!) | |
| [Poetic] | |
| I favor the plot of savin the box | |
| Capable cops'll be the neighborhood watch | |
| The stable that spots, estrogen is hot | |
| Infested wit vipers and three hots | |
| And the cops, yo, my man is snipers | |
| Trynna eat right, teach my peeps how to reach light | |
| The beast strikes each night, deep under the street light | |
| Gotta carry ya heat light, then peep the fight | |
| It's called Armaggedon, cuz of the armor ya gettin | |
| Weapon on ya side reppin, carry and hate in ya eyes | |
| Steppin in spots, ya hatin these spots | |
| Gettin the papers, surprised, so ya snake in the rise | |
| Lettin state conive, you end in takin a life | |
| [Chorus x4] | |
| [Outro: Frukwan] | |
| Gravediggaz! Eh-oh, ooh-eh | |
| Ooh-eh |
| zuo ci : Hamilton | |
| ya niggas, real mutha as what? | |
| Chorus 4X: Frukwan | |
| Wanna break? Wanna break, break | |
| Yo, what ya wanna break, nigga break | |
| Break what, nigga, what | |
| Frukwan | |
| First rule, ya mistake | |
| The phenomenal stomp the Earth are bombin you | |
| It' s all my chronicle, particle and rich | |
| Over original scripts, begger be choose | |
| Let off three shots, be confronted wit the bad news | |
| Long as mutha as corrupt, infiltrate the state | |
| Hit him wit graze, throw an earthquake | |
| Yo fraction, I' m settin off a chain reaction | |
| That increase, long as mutha as bust police | |
| Bloodsheed, mutts and gruts | |
| The wonder bread buds, a million black mutha a | |
| Head to junk, Devil schemin up plans to plot | |
| It' s gettin hot, usin our own, to start the clock | |
| Yo, I' m only fightin for what a brother deserve | |
| Bein God spreadin the gold, roll up on the reserve | |
| Blood, sweat and tears for years yo | |
| I' m fed up blown when mutha as take it outta they own | |
| Chorus x4 | |
| Poetic | |
| I watch thru my infrared green vision binocs' | |
| Storm in the desert, clever as a fox | |
| Bolt, wit measures in the clock, huh | |
| Seven stealth bomber nine, helicopt' drop | |
| The Gravedigga parachute wit the black roots | |
| Fall outta the sky like rain, as the soldier train | |
| To take back the Earth, the terrain | |
| We overcame fear, now prepare for pain | |
| First the soul from the rap world, all of ya villains | |
| That taught ya black children, wit rats in they buildin | |
| Singin on hydro, squatterin millions | |
| Or live up in gold, and fulfillions of killin | |
| And of ya plans strick, my hand grips a mic | |
| And transmits coordinates that float like it on a script | |
| Break down ya character flaws, to the masses | |
| Burn ya to ashes, and suck you wit acid | |
| Chorus x4 | |
| Frukwan | |
| Yo, I can' t be denied, gots to try | |
| Many will die, in the blink of an eye | |
| Nigga like me will survive | |
| Cannons and guns, gotta overcome the run | |
| Gots to chill, set packs of bill | |
| Shine my gift, or the uplifted brother that stiff and lost | |
| Trynna stear a brother back to cost | |
| Ready to try, ready to die | |
| Lyrical guns, lyrics fire | |
| What, ya outta line, forced wit pen | |
| Self defense, whackin the Timbs | |
| Strive to survive, but build my strength | |
| Finito, stampedro, don' t wanna will a negro | |
| Ready to break Break! | |
| Poetic | |
| I favor the plot of savin the box | |
| Capable cops' ll be the neighborhood watch | |
| The stable that spots, estrogen is hot | |
| Infested wit vipers and three hots | |
| And the cops, yo, my man is snipers | |
| Trynna eat right, teach my peeps how to reach light | |
| The beast strikes each night, deep under the street light | |
| Gotta carry ya heat light, then peep the fight | |
| It' s called Armaggedon, cuz of the armor ya gettin | |
| Weapon on ya side reppin, carry and hate in ya eyes | |
| Steppin in spots, ya hatin these spots | |
| Gettin the papers, surprised, so ya snake in the rise | |
| Lettin state conive, you end in takin a life | |
| Chorus x4 | |
| Outro: Frukwan | |
| Gravediggaz! Ehoh, ooheh | |
| Ooheh |
| zuò cí : Hamilton | |
| ya niggas, real mutha as what? | |
| Chorus 4X: Frukwan | |
| Wanna break? Wanna break, break | |
| Yo, what ya wanna break, nigga break | |
| Break what, nigga, what | |
| Frukwan | |
| First rule, ya mistake | |
| The phenomenal stomp the Earth are bombin you | |
| It' s all my chronicle, particle and rich | |
| Over original scripts, begger be choose | |
| Let off three shots, be confronted wit the bad news | |
| Long as mutha as corrupt, infiltrate the state | |
| Hit him wit graze, throw an earthquake | |
| Yo fraction, I' m settin off a chain reaction | |
| That increase, long as mutha as bust police | |
| Bloodsheed, mutts and gruts | |
| The wonder bread buds, a million black mutha a | |
| Head to junk, Devil schemin up plans to plot | |
| It' s gettin hot, usin our own, to start the clock | |
| Yo, I' m only fightin for what a brother deserve | |
| Bein God spreadin the gold, roll up on the reserve | |
| Blood, sweat and tears for years yo | |
| I' m fed up blown when mutha as take it outta they own | |
| Chorus x4 | |
| Poetic | |
| I watch thru my infrared green vision binocs' | |
| Storm in the desert, clever as a fox | |
| Bolt, wit measures in the clock, huh | |
| Seven stealth bomber nine, helicopt' drop | |
| The Gravedigga parachute wit the black roots | |
| Fall outta the sky like rain, as the soldier train | |
| To take back the Earth, the terrain | |
| We overcame fear, now prepare for pain | |
| First the soul from the rap world, all of ya villains | |
| That taught ya black children, wit rats in they buildin | |
| Singin on hydro, squatterin millions | |
| Or live up in gold, and fulfillions of killin | |
| And of ya plans strick, my hand grips a mic | |
| And transmits coordinates that float like it on a script | |
| Break down ya character flaws, to the masses | |
| Burn ya to ashes, and suck you wit acid | |
| Chorus x4 | |
| Frukwan | |
| Yo, I can' t be denied, gots to try | |
| Many will die, in the blink of an eye | |
| Nigga like me will survive | |
| Cannons and guns, gotta overcome the run | |
| Gots to chill, set packs of bill | |
| Shine my gift, or the uplifted brother that stiff and lost | |
| Trynna stear a brother back to cost | |
| Ready to try, ready to die | |
| Lyrical guns, lyrics fire | |
| What, ya outta line, forced wit pen | |
| Self defense, whackin the Timbs | |
| Strive to survive, but build my strength | |
| Finito, stampedro, don' t wanna will a negro | |
| Ready to break Break! | |
| Poetic | |
| I favor the plot of savin the box | |
| Capable cops' ll be the neighborhood watch | |
| The stable that spots, estrogen is hot | |
| Infested wit vipers and three hots | |
| And the cops, yo, my man is snipers | |
| Trynna eat right, teach my peeps how to reach light | |
| The beast strikes each night, deep under the street light | |
| Gotta carry ya heat light, then peep the fight | |
| It' s called Armaggedon, cuz of the armor ya gettin | |
| Weapon on ya side reppin, carry and hate in ya eyes | |
| Steppin in spots, ya hatin these spots | |
| Gettin the papers, surprised, so ya snake in the rise | |
| Lettin state conive, you end in takin a life | |
| Chorus x4 | |
| Outro: Frukwan | |
| Gravediggaz! Ehoh, ooheh | |
| Ooheh |
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