Lyrics Gorilla Musik - J.R. Writer feat. Lil' Wayne

(Chorus)

What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik
What, what?

(Verse)

Yo, yo yo . i got them A bars, straight hard
Dont fuck around wit j.r.
I play hard, i'm a-rod
You brothers need a day job (ok pause)
I'm on deck, and sucker i don't play cards
Hip-hop was dead til i went and dug it out the grave yard (yard)
You must be ray charles you seen the dood-us eetha
Those are rabans, nigga these are judith leevis (what's the difference?)
That's a payed grand, sittin on ya scooby feautures
I'm a made man, this is how i do it skeeza
Non-believers know that writer be grimey
I'm as scariest as central park night in the 90's
Wrist icey and shiny (bling!), click right there behind me
Ride slow, eyes so slow, the ikey be chinese (chinky!)
I run wit goons of niggas, certified goonie niggas (who dat?)
Kill you all over nuttin, you now, the stupid niggas (stupid!)
You's a victim when you come against the great
Don't think cuz im light skind-ed i won't punch you in ya face (werd!)
I be rumblin', runnin through the jungle with the apes
Have you stumblin, you brothas better pump up on ya breaks
Get your jaw wired just for mublin the jakes
Niggas turned into mariah when they run up in the place, for the judge to give a break
When i race my car (man), and run over these little rats and my k-a-r
And this aim a-r (click-clack) and it's mayday paw
This ain't play-play ya'll, dont try to play j.r.
I'm hot, it don't stop; i be spazzin, why not
Blowin pot out the spot, nigga pass the eye-drops
Eyes so red (what?, listen, i can pass for cyclops (clops)
Givin mike wippings like im jackson 5 pops (RIOT!)

(Chorus)

What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik

The typa shit the hustles gon' make a killen to it

What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik

I'ma show these little monkeys how gorillas do it

(Verse)

I'm from the gutter miss, rubber grips
Leave you niggas mother-less, brother-less
Whoever you runnin wit'll touch ya dick; stuffed wit clips (clips!)
I must admit, ya brothers it
But i will stick a knife in yo ass if you don't cut the shit
On a muscle tip (what?), i muscle it
Spark em down, swing my arms around til a muscle rip (blaooww)
Who could fuck with this, god im next
You ridin dirty cuz, you aint hit the car wash yet
I see paper, different kind of cars off set
3 weeks later, you ain't get ya car washed yet (damn.)
Ask ya broad i'm fresh (fresh!), the champion of the hood
Champion hood (and what), shit, i make champion look good
Unstood im from the back block (block), where they pack glocks
And you couldnt stop em from ridin (with what?), wit a padlock (nope)
Ask not, ya oc it's a black box
Bullets break em in half, call em snap shots
I aint gotta tussle
I keep myself outta truble
I got gorrillas that'll sent you guys in duffles (duffles)
You guys'll be puzzled, cuz listen i'm too fly to snuff you
I shoot ya dudes down up, don't mean to pop ya bubble
But ima click clacka (clacka), another clip clappa (clappa)
Large cake, scarface on the big plasma
Shoulda been in notorious (why?) forget rappin
Cuz shit, you aint actin big, you're a big actor (actor)
Quit the chit chatter, when would all this chatter stop (huh)
Before talkin, think about the trash you pop
I'll have you mournin (mournin), wishin you aint pass my block
Put a light in ya coffin, just so you could shadow box

(Chorus)

What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik

The typa shit the hustles gon' make a killen to it

What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik
What, what? gorilla musik

I'ma show these little monkeys how gorillas do it