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detonator records - explosion! كلمات الأغنية

[intro: akrobatik]
c-rayz. chan, what up, what up, snacks? breez. aight

[verse 1: akrobatik]
lights out. play this sh-t only at night
when you’re lounging with your fam and the ambiance is right
speaker seekers steady knocking
bas-m-nt house party system rocking
dope dj on the wheels, shorties flocking
we locking down clientele and -ssociates
‘cause when you book our services, we rip this sh-t appropriate
you know we hit spots and leave ’em forever blown
affect the ladies ‘til they leave a room full of pheromones
you can never clone the style-switching chameleon
legendary like walls krs wrote graffiti on
we the bomb cats to contact
whenever you need dope n-ggas on tracks, draft a contract
i devastate your blend tape, dorms, and club dates
akrobatik’s what’s frequently heard if you’re up late
right along with breez, c-rayz, and chan
turn this motherf-cker up. this sh-t is blazing, man

[hook: samples with fakts one scratches] (x2)
“another detonator explosion” – akrobatik’s “ruff enuff”
“another detonator” – akrobatik’s “ruff enuff”
“explosion! overpowering” – ll cool j’s “mama said knock you out”

[interlude 1 (overlapped with hook): breez evahflowin’]
yo, what it be?

[verse 2: breez evahflowin’]
if we supply the light to the explosive time device
and the t-tle to the label of height
nights like this, i wanna see tight fits—get hype, chicks
n-ggas front? get the right mitt where your bike fits
s-x the freestyle, get between thongs
like destiny’s child and angry women theme songs
team stronghold anchor n-gga. spank a n-gga
beat the p-ssy down till she thank a n-gga
(breez) evahflowin’ like the dot com
king c-ck don, d-ck shorty got rocked on
y’all popcorn rappers get bagged up from here ta
the nearest motherf-cking magic johnson theater
the back row get kicked out for smoking brick house
hit up l1ck’s house, get doused before we tripped out
(a la fiesta), grabs the hot mami
dragged up and blessed her chest like bob marley

[interlude 2 (overlapped with hook): chan]
uh. yeah. yeah. snacks about to get freaky on y’all. yo

[verse 3: chan]
night music. throw it on the crowd, lose it
guarantee mind and body, bump and grind movement
big b-tts and busts thrust in back and forth motion
like waves in the ocean, a powerful potion
intoxicated, x-rated thoughts occur
shaken not stirred on the rocks—henny say, “word”
word to the hooker boots, mini skirts and hoops
thug troops l1cking shots with adequate proof
aloof demeanor, mysterious manner
master of grammar through your body with my x-ray scanner
what’s my stamina in the bedroom?
i can’t front—a minute in your mouth, then kaboom
bust nuts and l-st. chickens just don’t trust
they just cluck and blow your motherf-cking two-way up
i’m not a player (what?). i just love getting laid
and getting paid. i’ll leave it now to my man c-rayz

[verse 4: c-rayz walz]
from the great walls of china to plush walls of v-g-n-
clog your nose with flows at shows we fix sinus/sign us
k!ll you in the barbershop—we shape your line up
cutting-edge material—that’s what defines us
yo, we do our thing thing like two ben grimms
breez and walz, walz and breez, him and him, it’s them again
adrenaline, “hok2,” phlegm from within
we write bomb music with explosive pens
detonate on this rhyme sh-t. you spineless
couldn’t spit nothing solid if you gave yourself the heimlich
you in the office like a big shot. turning this up?
look at the scene of hip hop—(stop!)—we burning it up
detonator, sronghold convincingly
hip hop’s finest shining—it was meant to be
make the most complex scripts sound simplistic
over your head like vince carter in the olympics
get up!

- detonator records

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