Break Em ft. b.cube Lyrics

I make em motherfuckers nervous when I pull up in a truck

Man who the fuck can really stand in front of me

You gotta be nuts

You gotta be sleeping 30 minutes a day

If you say their rhymes are rough

You gotta be smoking nana patekar's pubic hair

If you telling me that they are tough

Now hold up, I go berserk

My flow one up than yo' fuck ups

I go colored, you bore as fuck

You know what's up; I'm focused

Now throw the bluff

It shows you stuff, your nose with puff

But oh too much, you motherfuckers don't know shit

Let me elaborate you pups man

This the type of shit that'll make you like the sound of pen rubbing

This the type of shit

That'll make you slap your father's friend or something

This the type of shit that you'll be hearing at my funeral,

And this the type of shit that'll make you have a fucking funeral

The moment I get up up up on a stage every single rapper leaking urinal

The moment that b cube is kissing the mic

Ain't no other beatboxer suitable

We break em break em shake em

Making other motherfuckers really not usable

My shit is grand like fifty five water street

Your shit a yes bank cubicle

I wonder I wonder if they bussing

But all I see is they bluffing

Cant even spit off the top

Yeah they are good but good for nothing

How in the shit your records are selling

and who the dumb motherfuckers that playing it

Apart from bots, your friends & bots

Your brothers & bots & bots & parents

Why does everyone claim they're best

How the fuck you lie to yourself

If you suck that's not my problem

Calling me a hater?

Hell yes, I smoke the hate, I snort the jealousy

Born with it they are my family

Miss me with this corny shit,

That's one thing for which I have apathy

Ready to call you out on your bullshit

Your friends without the Krrent are useless

You've been applying the same formula

Since forever man there's no improvement

Killing every motherfucking beat like a movement

Every single producer be thinking I'm a nuisance

You don't really gotta pin point who the truth is

Get in the booth with me then you're toothless

All of my notebooks getting kind of heavy

With the motherfucking weight of the ink that I hold

In my pen, these emotions seem to begin every now & then

So I guess I cant control it

Will I get out of it?

Who the fuck knows

But I like it how it is

Cause it made me a G.O.A.T

Cheat codes for your life that you are being told

Just one last thing before we go so...

Wait, making em, making em wait

We making em wait, making em wait

Making em, making em wait

We making em wait

Wait, making em, making em wait

We making em wait, making em wait

Making em, making em wait

We making em wait

Wait, making em, making em wait

We making em wait, making em wait

Making em, making em wait

We making em wait

Wait, making em, making em wait

We making em wait

Before we kick them on the fucking ground

And cut them in the face

Blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka

Blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka

Oh, season that shit

Blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka

Blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka! blocka

Woah woah woah woah Woah woah woah

Blocka! Break em Blocka! Break em

Blocka! Break em Blocka! Break em

Blocka! Break em Blocka

Blocka! Break em Blocka! Break em

Blocka! Break em Blocka! Break em

Blocka! Break em Blocka

Oh, we wont just let you go

Making it making it hard, making it hard

For your breath & make you suffer fucker then we

Won't just let you go

No matter how bizarre, they call us heartless

We just call ourselves the artists I guess & we

Won't just let you go

Making it making it hard, making it hard

For your breath & make you suffer fucker then we

Wont just let you go