Trackmasters - Jump On It lyrics

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Trackmasters - Jump On It lyrics

[Intro] No cut Pure raw We sold out You bought more [Verse 1] It was meant to be Hip hop died, reincarnated through me Now the promoters gotta double my fee ‘Cause these pop melodies ain't f**ing with me Get back on your tour bus roll some broccoli I'll leave your crew twisted and your hoes knock kneed Hell through (time) and the game in my speed ‘Cause water down hip hop we do not need Yes sir, I got the real recipe A little bit of old E and bon bon Z I guess by now you can tell you miss me The baddest motherf**er in rap history One to the temple put you out your misery That's not an album , that's a frisbee Tangle with LL boy that's risky Them boys is backwash, we want whiskey [Hook] (Jump on it! jump on it!) When the chips is down you gotta fight for the crown (Jump on it! jump on it!) Tell them boys over there get down or lay down (Jump on it! jump on it!) I got the house of pain for your little pop clown (Jump on it! jump on it!) Don't get it criss cross we're taking over the town [Verse 2] Roll up on your set pull out the 4 pound Who's pitching out here blast them off the mound The game got us bored, no rebounce Claims he's hardcore how he sound My radio's a bunch of noise in the background For a factory manufacturing pop clowns That's what happens when LL ain't around The pop stars flooding and the hip hop drowns DJ suffer while sarada goes round You screaming? got the real creaming Welcome to hip hop, we're out here fiending Watch a program directed in the bin and Went from cruss group to a boy band screaming When it come under the car I ain't leaning I wish I could bump the brim creaming I tell you what, play my stupid — call it even [Hook] [Verse 3] What y'all want, no cut! What y'all need, pure raw What we do, we sold out All because.. you bought more! No affects on my voice, that's my choice Hard raw beat make a soft voice moist Get the dinero bring the heat like Jon Voight Timbaland music, rolls royce Hit you in the head like a fat joint Back to the S's big meat in Detroit L so perceptive shrud in the droit Bad motherf**er, now you get the point? [Hook] [Outro] (Jump on it! jump on it!) (Jump on it! jump on it!) (Jump on it! jump on it!) (Jump on it! jump on it!)