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Fix lyrics Know the rep by John Cena

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[Freddie Foxxx a.k.a. Bumpy Knuckles] Hahahaha... Y´all know the rep, yeah, listen My name is Bumpy Knuckles, I write that fuckin flame And kill for the right price I got a buckin name My forty caliber too fresh, stuck in aim We roll like 18 wheelers in the truckin game I´m nice with mics there´s nothin more I like than to paralyze your left side and leave you all right I be layin front of your crib with Tec-y all night Tryin to get them 9 millimeters loaded up tight, listen I´m like a Cadillac, I write a battle rap so smooth contest you´ll be out of that Y´all know the beef is stewin, that Bumpy came to ruin You may be signed but you don´t know what the fuck you doin I make aight hot, I make dope raw And send you higher than a long Colt four-four You know the only rap pimp that kept a ho poor And slam a fool on his back and break the whole floor [Chorus: Bumpy Knuckles] A yes yes y´all, and you don´t stop We keep on, once the cops are gone This is real street spit you best be warned Tell your favorite MC the mic is on A yes yes y´all, and you don´t stop We keep on, once the cops are gone [John Cena] Yeah, yeah It´s the J daddy, not Hov´ or Jam Master My mic is correct, but y´all know the hands faster See you bitch rappers I´m attackin the pile Y´all be cryin foul cause I´m hackin your style I make sure you and your mans done When I see y´all both drop, I´m the cat screamin And1 You see me on the team dog you know the game´s over Stones on my wrist, and a chip on my shoulder Sixteens cashin in on another hot beat Go cop me a drop with the butterscotch seats And we better not meet, if we do you gon´ see a change Make sure you whole FACE gettin rearranged We rollin up in the blacked out truck dog It´s Freddie Foxxx, now you deal with Corrupt Mob It´s gas on the fire, any time a track blaze Squad known to beef up the Heat, just like the Shaq trade [Tha Trademarc] This my 9 to 5, this ain´t no hobby cat Copycat killers bite styles, my rhyme piles is heavy Give me a beat, man I´ll body that Spittin that heat street raps man they nod to that What you smilin at? You R&B, man that´s hardly rap You lost the beat, man you bought a map Matter fact, here´s my next rap, borrow that Been off the street too long, I want my corner back You ain´t a player, you a armchair quarterback You ride the beat like side streets on a flat Don´t play dumb, I know where you came from You only seen slugs buddy after the rain come Keep it subtle, Trademarc got you bitch like babies suckin tits talkin ´bout mami let´s cuddle It´s gon´ be what it´s gon´ be, you duck down A quiet cat with a violent rap, what now? [Chorus]

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