Travis Barker - Come & Get it (Ft. Clipse) Lyrics
[Intro:]Sitting in the back (Oh my god)S-Sitting the back (f-f-f-funky shit)[Verse 1]Peanut butter jelly box, sitting in the carport808 crack, and I'm open like a barndoorBeer bottle cap, put 'em in the floorSet 'em in the floor, what a metaphor is this?Kind of like I do a beat with TravisEat it up, beat it up, work at the atlasWhere should I go? Put 'em in a cereal bowlIn Alabama, then I holler out "Cheerio"Look at that shit, pull the gun back like elasticAnd let it go like a mac clipS-Sipping on the green bottle, like I'm saint PatrickGot beans in the mattress, magicMake you want to jump on a fat *****Ooo got to have it(boss) Yelawolf, pick a thingOn a pekingese *****, go go gadget(Owh) I'm all the way from the gutterFlick a cigarette butt from a Chevrolet pickupGeeked up on 7 UpGotta turn the beat up while I run up on it like a cheetahWanna ride a beat, right above, that’ll be the day.Put you up shit creek, paddle it awayHat to the sideHoller at you homieWhat's the matter with you babe?[Hook:]Sitting in the back with the bass on boomTrunk gon shake, and the wheels on zoomAmerican classic, trashy tunesL.A. to Alabama, from noon to noonThey saying, (oh my god, that's some funky shit)(Oh my god, that's some funky shit)(Oh my god, that's some funky shit)Oh my god, that's some funky shit[Verse 2:]And I'm a Beastie BoyAirwalks and a bowl cutSkater when a skater wasn't coolWhen it was just, "so what? ***** you dude"Well ***** you too? with a backpackI'll bust your fruitI'm all about constructing my paperKind of like a pocket full of Elmer's GlueSqueeze the bottle, turn the milkChurn the butter, get the cheese tomorrowI got a lock on my profitNo exits, no keys tomorrowBut I got steeze to borrowSome Famous kicks to matchIf I got a bass line, I'll rapAs long as TB got sticks to crackSo hit a drumroll, I'll jump in like a jump ropeWatchAcapella like an elevator, operate the fader while I operate a label then I’m in my *****in' high topsRhythm like a clock, hop scotchYou would've thought, it was writtenBut it's notRag hanging out the back of them jeansNot a gangbanger but a cracker who singsAnd momma don't you worry about a single thingReally though, cause daddy brought charcoal, and gasolineAnd we cooking up tonight, t-bones, pinto beans[Hook][Verse 3:]Yeah, why stop now?Put 'em in the trunkLet 'em feel the soundThat they don't pop itLet 'em feel the rhyme till he finds the locket808 weighs a ton, so drop itWatch your feet, while I rock the beatGoing all out, no privacyI don't walk if I can ride the beatBut wouldn't you though? Don't lie to meOf course you would, catapult syllablesGot up on my horse in the woods, whoaMagical, sorcerer goodsSteal from the rich put more in the hoodNatural, born with a wood***** 'em all, I'm right above 'em allBut you could butt talk, if a ? fallOutrun with a mother*****er with a sluggish crawlChug till I can't chug at allNot a frat boy, I'm a rap boyIn Hollywood, like AykroydBut I read my script with a southern drawlI run home when mother callsCause mother's got a switchYeah, she's a wolf tooThat makes me a son of a *****[Hook]
