Comin Hard Lyrics by Mr. Pookie

Comin Hard Lyrics

    [mr. pookie]
    Now uh, which way he came, left or right, you can squash that
    I came from all directions playa, can you top that?
    I got em waitin mr. rippla, how you droppin it?
    See, i'ma drop it wit a cd full of major hits
    I got tha switch when its click, i'm in tha zone fool
    And plus you know that i'm gon rip it fo tha song through
    It's time to shine, time to polish off my game right
    Krunk like its game night or a roy jones title fight
    Wit combinations that can spark up in a blaze fire
    I'm gettin paid while you bustas goin haywire
    So wha you say now? i brought tha ruckus
    Testin tha bustas, got sumthin to say but no they love us
    Indeed, i bring tha trees when its time to choke
    Ready to beat up on tha foes at tha end of tha show
    This time you know, my crooks stay on top of they game
    And when you least expect it thea's anotha hook to tha brain

    Chorus(juiell)

    Balla, if you a balla tell em how you comin hard
    Hustla, if you a hustla, baby hustle like a superstar
    Playa, cause we some playaz and you know jus who we are
    Crooksta, if you a crook tell em how ya comin hard

    [mr. pookie]
    Right back at cha, awww hell naw i wont ease up
    Dont got me krunk now, picture me wit cheese stuffed
    In my pockets, i bout to get it on a paper rage
    Gotta make my paper change, increase my paper weight
    Set tha stage, aint got no killaz on tha payroll
    Only my crook playaz wit me from tha get go
    Let it be known i'm from dallas, that's in texas
    Bring it on, as if you think you can outflex us
    Betta bring yo best, cause i'm runnin round these fools
    I been waitin for this very day, straight up clownin fools
    I'll face him, who, you, wha, that's to all my foes
    See we gunnin when we runnin playa, knockin down closed doors
    And uh, down to strike a pose when i finish rippin on these figgaz
    Makin sure my presence felt, boy i been bound to come up wit cha
    It's tha mr. comin hard on em, bring tha track, i'ma bomb on em
    Kevin a put tha guard on em, i'ma bout to storm on em

    Chorus

    [mr. pookie]
    Now you see in a change of clothes, still creased down
    Got my ice on my fingers and struttin hard through tha town
    And i cant forget my crown, flip tha brim like a pimp
    Slide my fingers across, that's to make sure of tha fit
    Got tha ladies checkin this and my hair whipped up
    And a sack in my pocket, french connection in tha cut
    Valley ruff on tha mic, when i'm chillin like this
    That's when i'm ballin wit my crooks feelin tipsy and shit
    I'm comin dizzy wit hits, and cant nobody fade tha g's
    I'm as witable, hitable no he strappin on these 3's
    You can try, you wont succeed, i'm to playa like, playboy
    I know some tru cats that'll whoop you and yo homeboys
    Me and pookie solo johnson in tha old school
    Clubbin wit no rules, peepin tha foes 2
    Eatin some soul food and now we choosin
    It's mr. pookie neighborhood watchin, crooks is movin

    Chorus

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