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"Jackin' 4 Beats" lyrics by SLY BOOGY
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"Jackin' 4 Beats"


[Sly Boogy talkin]
uh, yea, c'mon
we finna give it to ya
Sly Boogy, baby
King Tech, baby
urban legends
ha, check it out

[Sly Boogy]
ah, yes yes y'all
I'm finna bless y'all
I'm Sly Boogy and I be reppin the west y'all
nevertheless y'all
I gotta ?SASH? y'all
I'm finna light it up and take it to the chest y'all
yea
we movin in like the cavity creeps
bumpin yo teeth while we sceamin and we jackin for beats
strappin the heat
you can bang it in your lack of your jeep
when you travel indeed
we bringin it back to the streets
baby
we finna give it to ya

IT'S SLYYYY BOOGY!

the main man wit the masterplan
I take a brewskie to the neck and then I smash the can
if you disrespect my fam when I'm up in the jam
you can recieve a pimpslap wit the back of the hand
you can't touch me no matter where you stand
even wit an armspan as long as plastic man
battlin me could be drastic man
it's like havin diarrhoea in a traffic jam
gettin gaffled up wit the half a gram
on a credit card scam in the back of the fan
wit no tags
I bust a cap and watch you scram
runnin like the Taliban in Afghanistan
poppin my collar like a daper dan
flossin the latest swapmeet fashion brand
when I smash I'ma tap that ass
as if I'm cockin the hammer back and I blast

so watch what you say to me, punk
cuz I got what it takes to smash and straight dump
yea
you better watch what you say to me, nigga
cuz I got what it takes to pull the damn trigger
it's out the system to rip this shit
you can slip into the grip of a fish and get bit
you can trip and get yo wig split
when I pop this clip and let the 4-5 spit
straight from the hip wit six clips
I pimps this gift and twist and flip shit
I'ma split this bricks so we can twist this spliff
and make you pop like the clutch on your stickshift
slappin bones, I'm slammin the big six
stick into yo hips like milk and biscuits
yea
when I smash on swiff like zip this
cuz all I wanna do is get rich and sip cris

but for now just pass the courvoisier
lemme get a fast swig of that alizee
I just want a little sip of the tanqueray
so I can get my wig so wet cuz I came to play
I got the blunts and the drinks is crispy
frolicin in the jam like a frisky grizzly
sippin on hennessey and tennessey whiskey
when I finish sippin I'm finna be pissy tipsy
like Ja Rule I be livin it up
wit King Tech in the cut we be flippin it up

like
yo, check the delivery
yo, check the delivery
yo, check the delivery

turn it up if ya feelin me and peep the last piece of this poetical soliloquy
yea
Sly Boogy wit the elegant delivery
comin lyricly strapped wit artillery
stackin my chips to ball and livin imaculant
and ghetto fabolous while I'm puffin the finest cannibis
mad woozy off the kron-dooky
when I exhale blow smoke like God-zooky
curb servin like I'm slangin bomb cola
the bomb doja got me floatin like a gondola
dirty as Black Eyed Peas and hot Oprah
but now it's time to go, my rhyme's over

yo, check the delivery
yo, check the delivery
yo, check the delivery

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