just to let it be known that i drop what the f*ck i want to drop!
click here to listen to baby cee's new hot single jiggle
This page features the first single from my new album "Mysterious Wayz"
Its called "jiggle"
I am selling my cd on the streets for $5
so please support me.
I would like to thank everybody who has heard all my music from 1999-2004. i appreciate your time and support.
all unreleased work i make in the future will appear on this page.
Story behind the song
the song was old when i first dropped it b*tch!
Lyrics
chorus:
(we gonna)
crack ya'll ni**az up, smack ya'll ni**az up,
back ya'll ni**az up, jack ya'll ni**az up
thought ya'll ni**az wuz hard
though ya'll ni**az wuz hard (here we go)
-repeat-
verse 1:
i release vigorous thoughts, hold ridiculous court. inconspicous sort of ni**a, it's the streets that taught a ni**a.
all the cops that caught a ni**a, all you crabs that fought a ni**a, all you bi**hes that still doubt a ni**a.
i spill a 40 ounce verse for you 12 ounce ni**az.
do the math and see my style amounts iller.
equal signs reflect you need to check them feeble rhymes.
my ni**az evil minds combine and print some killer lines.
snatch ya dollar signs, f**k trying to match your dollar signs.
i rather come from behind, and leave ya'll ni**az froze in time.
foes of mine, be like hoes of mine, playing pretty till i get serious.
turn ed' murph', they get delirious.
don't want to see me furious, then better stop being curious.
rapping bout my life, living luxiurious.
ya'll be idiots, i'm bout to show ya'll how real it gets.
ni**az know i'm thorough, they be like.."look how real he spits".
throw my words with clarity, don't need a beat to carry me.
but still push out instrumentals bound to earn a salary.
ni**az scream they love rap, bought a ring, on bended knee.
but f**k that, i got hip hop wanting to marry me.
if rap is your bi**h, then the ho slept with me many times.
and i bet i made her c*m more than you.
do i look dumb to you?
come with something i can feel.
cuz them basic line for lines, you be writing show no skill.
chorus
verse 2:
i blow tracks the f**k up, throw raps to act up,
hold cracks to stack up, kid my block stays pumped up.
i aim for the jugular, a hustler with a talent.
microphone be my mallet, lopside you then i grab your wallet.
similar to comets how my ni**az smash your surface.
then we bash your worthless life that was formed for no purpose.
i'm merciless, with words that just, paralyzing.
ya'll be analyzing, damn, how can 1 ni**a be so mesmorizing?
on cordless mics i'm still electrifying.
murder m.c.'s, no compromising.
now bang that!
in your "aiwa", learn the words so you can sing that.
"catchy without commercialism do your thang rap".
competition want a piece of me, where you hang at?
give you home court advantage, still you catching sprained backs.
trying to kick them lame raps, got you back at the crib with wifee and she asking you: "honey, where the pain at?"
somebody need to staple your lips, and crazy glue you.
throw your rhymes in sign language so we can't hear you.
ni**a get drunk to feel hard, but i don't fear you.
non-rapping buddies jumping in to interfere too.
go ahead, double team me, ahead trouble cream see.
but not for me, for ya'll i'm playing "bobby" to ya'll "whitneys".
verbally, ya'll couldnt stick me, if ya'll words were buck 50s.
i advise you, stick to lookin jiggy.
chorus
