Blowin' Up Lyrics

Quo - Blowin' Up Lyrics

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Blowin' Up Lyrics

Yes indeed we blowin' up with speed

Come to lift the part up with the rhymes we weave

All woven shorty styles not jokin'

Not a buffalo Bill so u know there aint no chokin'

Wicked on a stage like a bengal in a cage

Don't try ta approach as I turn the page

It's the next rhyme this is Quo time

Curious about the flav that was left in your mind

Behold 20 million records gonna be sold

Before we're even old enough to drive

So get live as we bust up da stage

clockin' a grip, kickin' a flip, bustin' a tic

While I'm stealin your honey dip

With quick reaction like Action Jackson

And this is just a profile of the rhyme tread traction

So back the hell up (What?)



Chorus:

We Blowin' Up

We come to drop da bomb

We Blowin' Up

We come to drop da bomb

We Blowin' Up

We come to drop da bomb

We Blowin' Up

We come to drop it



Not just to drop da bomb I came to let ya know

That we flow, Like ice cream drippin down your elbow

Hard but smoov and wet

Will Quo rip the set bet

but yo back to the topic at hand

Understand, a young man

With soul drippin out da pores

Openin' up doors, sellin out tours

Ready to make top core bills with thrills

Like honeys with chills

And shakes and shivers all over when I rush it

I'm smoother than dooky down the toilet when ya flush it

So back up get a grip 

ya can't come equipped enough to rush the stuff I let go

With the ability to knock ya out wuicker than Riddick Bowe

Want a piece of this young gun finishin' up the 2nd verse

So don't interrupt, we blowin' up



Chorus

Break



A state of mind that ya very seldom enter

Beginnin' this time with a dope style inventor

Who's that? That's me, my bad

I'm teachin class so grab your pen and your pad

The science I'm droppin is gettin hectic

Bringin you more energy than General Electric

So drop da bomb, wake the calm

Try to follow the funky flow from night to dawn

Cuz most can't hang with my slicked up style

A rhythmatically god-gifted child

So just watch the two get funky

I'm slammin' harder than Harold Minor when he'z dunkin'

We speak fact not fiction

And we breakin' it all down, you hear no stutter in our diction

Because the crew won't stand for it

The deliverance of our lyric is syrup when u pour it smoov



Chorus (repeat till fade)