"Winicumuhround" as written by Erick S. Sermon, Reggie Noble, Garry Marshall Shider, David L. Spradley and George Jr. Clinton....
The hype's got me I knock em out the box then out socks

Cause winicumuhround niggaz skate like the rocks

My block...'s hot so gimme all you got

When I'm done rockin I leave you all doin the Bus Stop

My format spins wheels like Pat Sajak

I rub niggaz out like Ajax now hit the playback

Rrrwwhwoaah look out roast em like cookouts

I'm smoked out all you MC's pull your books out

Word is bond it's on I get at Dawn like Marvin Gaye

Starvin since the days of Kindergarten

When I dye my ashes, flip my coffin backwards

Blow shit up like the 4th of July, with half sticks

And on and on, to the break of Rae-Dawn Chong

I'm Killin You Softly with this song, with this bomb

I'm like the Bronx, 'cause I Boogie Down

I'm representin Jersey motherfucker, winicumuhround

Winicumuhround, homeboy watch yo nugget

(Aiyyo-yo-yo Redman, yo that was last album) Aiyyo fuck it, bust it

The top, notch, look over your sess spots

Get dumb like a whole bag of jumps with red tops

Burn more steam than carpet cleaners

I'm meaner then I'm iller than OJ, catchin a misdemeanor

Boom-bash I set it off (right right)

I shot up your lights while you caught up in the heights

My lyrics starvin, my crew runs like the mob and

The funk butter cup, cause I'm a bastard at robbin

I shake the valleys over Cali when I'm spliffed up

Rock a fifth up, that measure nine point oh on the Erichter

Are you tuned in to my tunes it's boom

y'all niggaz couldn't see me if y'all had zoom

I'm accurate like Acura, my style's ninety years maximum

Fuel-injected like a Maxima, wheni'muharound motherfucker

The way I get wreck y'all niggaz call it mic check

I'm vexed and if I got an itchy finger like Bernard Geotz

With a pad and a pen I blend funky images

That leave your girl hemmoragin for about two million and

three years move along there's nothing to see here

If I wasn't nice motherfucker I wouldn't be here

Yeah yeah put metaphors inside a bracket

Def Squad's in the house AND MOTHERFUCKER WE CAN BACK IT

Come test your skills for real with a bomb bang boom bang

The sound makes your brains wet

with The Color Purple on a freight train

The devil's the conductor

Then take a trip to the darkside motherfuckers

My funky pattern takes interludes around Saturn

I'm more diesel than evil meant evil like Sebastian

Don't try this at home kids, I zone with ET's

And other alien type of MC's

So throw your shit up in the sky, cause Redman's about to get live

Like one-two-five

I smoke High Times magazines when I lounge

And broken mics and cords is left, winicumuhround motherfucker

Lyrics submitted by ButNeverOutgunned

"Winicumuhround" as written by Erick S. Sermon David L. Spradley

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

Winicumuhround song meanings
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