Straight Out the Crops Lyrics
| Song | Straight Out the Crops |
| Artist | Boondox |
| Album | Krimson Creek |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Who it be? | |
| The doc’s comin straight from the crops | |
| I’m hittin switches for these bitches they as dirtay as | |
| WoodstockAnd when | |
| I chop, the shock goes straight up your vertabrate | |
| They pickin at yo bones, and at your eyes just like a bird of prey | |
| A sick son of a bitch call me the scarecrowmy face-painted up the | |
| Blair-witch with a four four | |
| And I stay on the prow, with nose like a blood hound | |
| Straight stalking muther fuckers yo an this how it goes down | |
| This sight of blood it gets me higher than an astronaut | |
| A backwoods monster shot gun an a master plot | |
| To burn yo cities and murder all yo committeesdoor to dorr slangin lead never showin no pity | |
| I bring the pain to ya brain so they callin me trama | |
| Choking at ya neck, with a chain | |
| I think ya dead mama | |
| It aint da same since the sane went insane mama | |
| Time to show these haters how to play da fucking game mama[Chorus x2] | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| I won’t stop ima | |
| POP! POP! | |
| POP!, until they all drop | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| I wont quit, | |
| I know you feeling this shit, you must be feelin this shit. | |
| YEAH!I comin’ straight out da stix, and all da shit dat | |
| I spitIt be as dirty as a gathering of 2006 | |
| And yea I grip like a tick right on the words of these pricks | |
| Who all hatein throwin a waight because they say im a hick | |
| But I aint apologizing, hell no | |
| I say fuck emim still runnin with a hatchet then these hoes aint doin nuthin | |
| So just quit of all ya’ll frontin and then get down on yo knees | |
| Pray to God dat | |
| I don’t find you and then dislocate yo spleen | |
| Cause you never wanna see me bitch jumping out of trees an shit | |
| Wrap my hands around yo throat and send you up to | |
| Jesus bitch | |
| Quick to see ya to ya maker, quicker than the undertaker | |
| Put you through a shredder and then spread you on a hundred acres | |
| Keep my name up out yo mouth, keep yo ass up out da south | |
| Ya mamiy aint raise ya right, ima bout to show her how | |
| Please don’t make me fetch da steel, make this cap an extra pill | |
| Pop you like a cherry mutha fucka never test my will[Chorus x2 until song ends] |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Who it be? | |
| The doc' s comin straight from the crops | |
| I' m hittin switches for these bitches they as dirtay as | |
| WoodstockAnd when | |
| I chop, the shock goes straight up your vertabrate | |
| They pickin at yo bones, and at your eyes just like a bird of prey | |
| A sick son of a bitch call me the scarecrowmy facepainted up the | |
| Blairwitch with a four four | |
| And I stay on the prow, with nose like a blood hound | |
| Straight stalking muther fuckers yo an this how it goes down | |
| This sight of blood it gets me higher than an astronaut | |
| A backwoods monster shot gun an a master plot | |
| To burn yo cities and murder all yo committeesdoor to dorr slangin lead never showin no pity | |
| I bring the pain to ya brain so they callin me trama | |
| Choking at ya neck, with a chain | |
| I think ya dead mama | |
| It aint da same since the sane went insane mama | |
| Time to show these haters how to play da fucking game mama Chorus x2 | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| I won' t stop ima | |
| POP! POP! | |
| POP!, until they all drop | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| I wont quit, | |
| I know you feeling this shit, you must be feelin this shit. | |
| YEAH! I comin' straight out da stix, and all da shit dat | |
| I spitIt be as dirty as a gathering of 2006 | |
| And yea I grip like a tick right on the words of these pricks | |
| Who all hatein throwin a waight because they say im a hick | |
| But I aint apologizing, hell no | |
| I say fuck emim still runnin with a hatchet then these hoes aint doin nuthin | |
| So just quit of all ya' ll frontin and then get down on yo knees | |
| Pray to God dat | |
| I don' t find you and then dislocate yo spleen | |
| Cause you never wanna see me bitch jumping out of trees an shit | |
| Wrap my hands around yo throat and send you up to | |
| Jesus bitch | |
| Quick to see ya to ya maker, quicker than the undertaker | |
| Put you through a shredder and then spread you on a hundred acres | |
| Keep my name up out yo mouth, keep yo ass up out da south | |
| Ya mamiy aint raise ya right, ima bout to show her how | |
| Please don' t make me fetch da steel, make this cap an extra pill | |
| Pop you like a cherry mutha fucka never test my will Chorus x2 until song ends |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| Who it be? | |
| The doc' s comin straight from the crops | |
| I' m hittin switches for these bitches they as dirtay as | |
| WoodstockAnd when | |
| I chop, the shock goes straight up your vertabrate | |
| They pickin at yo bones, and at your eyes just like a bird of prey | |
| A sick son of a bitch call me the scarecrowmy facepainted up the | |
| Blairwitch with a four four | |
| And I stay on the prow, with nose like a blood hound | |
| Straight stalking muther fuckers yo an this how it goes down | |
| This sight of blood it gets me higher than an astronaut | |
| A backwoods monster shot gun an a master plot | |
| To burn yo cities and murder all yo committeesdoor to dorr slangin lead never showin no pity | |
| I bring the pain to ya brain so they callin me trama | |
| Choking at ya neck, with a chain | |
| I think ya dead mama | |
| It aint da same since the sane went insane mama | |
| Time to show these haters how to play da fucking game mama Chorus x2 | |
| Straight out the crops | |
| I won' t stop ima | |
| POP! POP! | |
| POP!, until they all drop | |
| Straight out the stix | |
| I wont quit, | |
| I know you feeling this shit, you must be feelin this shit. | |
| YEAH! I comin' straight out da stix, and all da shit dat | |
| I spitIt be as dirty as a gathering of 2006 | |
| And yea I grip like a tick right on the words of these pricks | |
| Who all hatein throwin a waight because they say im a hick | |
| But I aint apologizing, hell no | |
| I say fuck emim still runnin with a hatchet then these hoes aint doin nuthin | |
| So just quit of all ya' ll frontin and then get down on yo knees | |
| Pray to God dat | |
| I don' t find you and then dislocate yo spleen | |
| Cause you never wanna see me bitch jumping out of trees an shit | |
| Wrap my hands around yo throat and send you up to | |
| Jesus bitch | |
| Quick to see ya to ya maker, quicker than the undertaker | |
| Put you through a shredder and then spread you on a hundred acres | |
| Keep my name up out yo mouth, keep yo ass up out da south | |
| Ya mamiy aint raise ya right, ima bout to show her how | |
| Please don' t make me fetch da steel, make this cap an extra pill | |
| Pop you like a cherry mutha fucka never test my will Chorus x2 until song ends |
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