Who Got Da Props (Evil Dee's Deadly Mix)

Put up – what up? Bo! Bo! Bo!

Suckers wanna flow, but they got no show

So, I'ma grab the mic, flip a script and leave ya stunned

Buckshot's the one that gets the job done

Mic check, I get paid to wreck ya set

Get ready and jet, 'cause I'm a threat to your fret

No holds barred, incomplete move fakers

Best to play the back and watch your girl, I might take her

If she's a crab, I'ma diss her, then slide

If she try to riff, I got my Smith on my side

Word to God, here I come, so make–way

Rugged and raw, killin' your set every day

Microphone check, one, two, here we go

And I'ma let you know–who got the flow

Spitting my verbs like an automatic weapon

Suckers, keep steppin' – 'cause I'ma let you know

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

One Mississippi, two Mississippi

Sucker tried to diss me, so I played him like a hippie from the 60s

But I'ma get paid from the 90s

Quick to play you Little Rascals out like Stymie

Kickin' flavor with my Life Saver techniques

Guaranteed to move feets, and I'll go on for weeks

Maybe years, if my peers give me ears to fill

Lick off a shot and act ill, parlay, then chill

See, I've paid my dues, now you can't tell me nothing

This is dedicated to the ones who kept frontin'

The ones who tried to diss and pose high? Ohh, no!

Just 'cause you had 'Lo? See, now I got dough

And I'm paid out my rectum, meaning my backbone

Grab the mic, flip a mad script to your dome

Suckers, I kick 'em like Tae Kwon Do

Guess and 'Lo, from head to toe, to let you know

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

I'm the rugged operator, like Arnold Schwarzenegger

Buckshot quick to play a **** like Sega

Smooth trigger-happy, snappy, keep my hair nappy

When I swing an ep', girls call me 'Big Pappy'

I used to play a game called 'Ring Around The Rosey'

But now I play the mic, that's why the whole world knows me

I'm sort of like a Chevy, heavy when I bumrush

You'd better bring your whole damn crew, or get your head crushed – sucka

'Cause I'ma set it off with one shot

One trigger, one ****, 'nough heads drop

Don't even try to play me out, cause static

Buckshot Shorty – he sounds like an automatic

Rip the set, my threads mad tight

'Cause I rocks the mic and keeps the crowd hype

Straight from Bumrush, I crush and cause chaos, yo

And I'ma let you know

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

One, two, melodies chosen

Before I flip a script, you know I must kick ya doors in

Into the stage of the Buckshot Shorty

Son, pass the boom, keep the top on a 40

Never ever ever get played – kill that!

Bust a mad cap in your back, 'cause I'm all that

Straight from Crooklyn, better known as Brooklyn

E. loop the hook in – your whole beat's took'n

Must take charge, Bogart – I'm the man

Bust my plan, and feeds back all my fan

Muss-out crews, pay dues, I never lose

When I break off fools – wake up, yo, don't snooze

Bust a move, I get smooth like rowie

Kickin' like the Four Horsemen – yeah, you know me

Boomin' like a speaker with my hundred-dollar sneakers

Baggy black jeans, knapsack, and my beeper

Keep a fresh cut, never see me with a busted 'fro

And I'ma let you know...

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

Who got the props? ("C'mon!")

5.F.T., Evil Dee, and Buckshot! ("C'mon!")

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah

We just wanna let you all–y'all know who got the props!

Yeah! Yeah! Check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out, yo –

Chuck Chillout – yes, he gots the props!

Red Alert – yes, he gots the props!

Kid Capri – yes, he got the props!

Awesome Two – yes, they gots the props!

Bobbito – yes, he gots the props!

Stretch Armstrong – yes, he gots the props!

Beatminerz – yes, they gots the props!

The whole fam – yes, they gots the props!

Yeah! That's right! We got the props, yeah!

My man Rock on the ave... F.A.P. in full effect! Representin'!

Yeah, that's my right! My man Evil Dee!

My man Mick! In effect! My man Kev! Flex!

Represent, y'all! Yeah...