"B.K. Style" as written by Kasseem Dean, John David Jackson, Victor Santiago and Mashonda K. Tifrere....
Yea, its 'bout to get real hard for these niggas to move man
Somebody get these niggas some wheelchairs or somethin'

Goin' to war is still a scary issue
But in my hood they train to kill wit every pistol
Like a military issue
Guess you a star if you sell a million every disc two
Catch a gun case an' bounce, still they'll barely frisk you
'cause, I proved I move the retail
Make the smoothest grooves wit female
And I remove the rules on V12's
You never ain't never seen it move this smooth on Sprewell's
I'm a hustler, he's just a middle man to me
The way I pass the rock, could make Jason Kidd a fan of me
Just cop one joint, I'm a one point somethin'
Still I had you at gunpoint, with one joint dumpin'
So watch what you say to them, crackers
I'll put a couple g's on yer head, like you play for the packers
I'm rap's Labron James, I quickly see baskets
These scrubs wouldn't make it to the Mickey-D's classics
You got some sticky weed, pass it
If not put it out, I'm pushin' it before they put it out
Wit the dash, wooded out, Shaq O'Neal, footed out
Blastin' a do-did-it, first before they put it out, clue

Maybe wouldn't be a million kids wit they faces on containers
If cops pursue the same way they chase us entertainers
In the hood, a few big faces and a chain-a
Get metal in ya mouth, like braces and retainers
Even the young bucks be scheming on somebody change
Tryin' a sell somebody 'cain, before they even potty trained
You can smooth talk your way into a hottie brain
Have her suckin' long enough to leave a nigga body drained
I wasn't taught, I learned from watchin' stupid people
That'll run up shootin' in front of a group of people
I lay in a cut, the same way the troopers peep you
Ride up on yer Coupe creep you
Why you let a groupie deep you?
'cause even if you reppin' like a man of steel
You gon' still need a weapon when you land a deal
One for watch you slippin' like you steppin' on banana peels
Think a nigga ain't gon' pull a weapon 'cause you scanned a mil'?
I crept in and got handed meals
Now the white and black rides look like salt, pepper on a bannon grill
Think I wouldn't hold a Pepsi in my hand for mil's?
You must be fuckin' stupid, nigga

Brooklyn stand the fucker
Every project, rebourse, Kings Borough
Push wig, for grain
Fill it in, brown fill
Lengston you, LG
Linda, bandi, steflo, Brooklyn
All believe, Glym wall
Abyss fill, faragay
Talkin' stumlo, Guonas
I'm just the project nigga myself

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"B.K. Style" as written by John David Jackson Kasseem Dean

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

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B.K. Style song meanings
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