Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fred Wesley and the J.B.'s
Fred Wesley and the J.B.'s
Sampled Artist
Kay-Gee
Kay-Gee
DJ
Treach
Treach
Vocals
Vin Rock
Vin Rock
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anthony Shawn Criss
Anthony Shawn Criss
Songwriter
Keir Lamont Gist
Keir Lamont Gist
Songwriter
Vincent E. Brown
Vincent E. Brown
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Naughty By Nature
Naughty By Nature
Producer
Benny Medina
Benny Medina
Executive Producer
Queen Latifah
Queen Latifah
Executive Producer
Shakim
Shakim
Executive Producer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Chris Gehringer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
Dae Bennett
Dae Bennett
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Hey, you could smoke a spliff with a cliff
But there's still no mountain high enough
Or wide enough to touch
The naughty, nappy, nasty ****, the nasty, trashy, ho-happy pappy
That's happy to be nappy
Me and Vin Rock win spots, hit flocks
In groups and troops with Timbo boots and jail suits
That's how I roll when my hairdo don't
When the will I got wantin' competition ain't dope
Beat ya, break ya, broke ya, smoke ya, take ya
Send you to your little group on mute, sooner or later
He wanna flip, tell him full, semi, half with a dip
And all that other Ringling Brothers shit
Sporty, naughty, hi, bye, greater than nature, why I
Shin slam the flim-flam and then jam
You can run, but you can't hide, you can't go far
No matter where you go, there you are
[Chorus]
We gonna break, we gonna bash
We gonna roll, we gonna smash
We gonna break, we gonna bash
We gonna roll, we gonna smash
[Verse 2]
Here we go, yo
Hit a ****, kill a ****, we'll come back
See a sucker, stretch a sucker, guard your naps
Cussin' wasn't nothin' till a Black man rapped
See a forty, suck a forty, guess who's back
[Verse 3]
You're chillin' with a titty-feelin' villian
Steppin' to the puny, puddy punks catchin' feelings
I hit so many guts, call me gutter, I'm the bread and butter
Punk motherfuckers, I'll cut up, workin' from the gut up
Brand new steady, heavy as a Chevy
Ready for the piddy-peddy, I'm Friddie Freddie
Place your bet on a vet, the three-man threat
What you see is what you get
[Chorus]
We gonna break, we gonna bash
We gonna roll, we gonna smash
We gonna break, we gonna bash
We gonna roll, we gonna smash
[Verse 4]
Comin' 'round the corner with my Uptown bunch
I bet your bottom dollar that you're bottom-bunk chumps
Give it up, it's a juice thing, I'm steppin' for the rep, and
Wreckin' all the rest and weapon testin' on who's steppin'
Ain't no bluff for the niggy-nuff, for the rugged rough stuff
****, if you're tough, knuckle up
I'll cut your ass like class, then blast you by the trash
After I laugh, then I'll dash
You can't handle the scandal of an uptown vandal
Shootin' up your toes, makin' sandals
Somebody told me that you own me, but can't nobody hold me
I do my dirt all by my lonely
[Chorus]
We gonna break, we gonna bash
We gonna roll, we gonna smash
We gonna break, we gonna bash
We gonna roll, we gonna smash
[Outro]
We gonna
We gonna
We gonna
We gonna, we gonna, we gonna, we gonna
We gonna, we gonna, we gonna, we gonna
Written by: Anthony Criss, Kier Gist, Vincent Brown
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