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​Bang This

This song is by J Wess Project.

J-w, e- double s
Don't We Double Best
Tracks Tear Holes In Ya Bubble Vests
Trouble... Yes... when ya hear tha words
Bang this from the city till I'm near the 'burbs

Hook (Kulaia & J Wess)
Bang This In Da Club
(Imma spray the joint)
And If you wanna get loud
(You gotta play this joint)
No Dress Code, No Guest Lists, No Charge
(A small change, but I must stress this, I'm so LAARGE!)
Bang This In Da Club
(Imma spray the joint)
And If you wanna get loud
(You can't fade the joint)
And yo, this is for tha wannabe riders with no cars
I'd be just like you if I wasn't so LAARGE!

Verse 1 (MC Digga)
Id bet you'd like to know what happens when the lights go off
The mic go off, don't even try to fight the force
I'm tryin' to lock it down globally like microsoft
Blaze tracks, but I've never been the type to floss
Wipe the floors with fake ass rappers, they ain't moving the crowd
I showed you before, plus I'm proving it now (and smoothing it out)
I still bring the ruckus to this and while you home on the couch (I stay up in the mix)
You got a bad attitude, that's something to fix
I'm gettin' love from ya crew, 'cause they be pumpin my dick
Think nothing of this, I could do it my sleep YA FEEL
So while you non-talent muhfuckers keep shit real
I keep shit still to stay on point, till I'm paid the "??"
Bangin' the club, my lyrics spray the joint
Keep the dance floor wet so you can get ya slide on
So why track this hit, watch me get my glide on

Verse 2 (MC Digga)
Check my comand of the English language its expansive
At a club with drink bars, new kicks, new chicks to dance with
That's not my most of operandi, understand, I
Redefine the role of the villain, respect the bad guy
Award winning sentences, acclaimed critical lyrical
Most of y'all just spit generical references
Its very circuitous, 360 degrees in fact
Breeze through ya down and leave with my steeds in tact
With ease I rap, you chopping mad takes for a verse
Bullshit punches, my hunches, you should wait and rehearse
Stop I heard the hot shit and your not it
You need to cop this, steady drop this, heavy rock shit
It's over, HUH, y'all ain't heard, I'm the deacon of words
Freaking the verb, while you speaking absurd
Take some decent reserve, with foot soldiers with balls big as boulders
To move obstacles so save your acting for the movie

Verse 3 (MC Digga)
Yo rapping is dead, I don't spit, I flow
Flip the script, nah, stick to the shit you know
The clique you owe, and dick you blow belong to me
Got ya shit on to me, my word is Bond like Sean Connery
Ladies still feel me when I'm 75
Point oh 9 with no license, still ready to drive
I study the vibe, it's like that R&B classic, track shit
Rappers act spastic, when I flash hits
So merge ya words with virgin herbs
Ain't my function, don't wanna keep the peace, I'd rather punch em
Straight hard hits of the target, I'm never sprayin
Came in here with my fist in ya mouth, so what you saying
I ain't claimed the shit, you haters stay on the dick
All you do is talk about us, naysayin the clique, I'm saying ya sick
Gastro interitis and all that "??" flowing tight as the format