Dru Down
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down & JT the Bigga Figga
Dru Down
Dru Down
Dru Down
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down
Dru Down
Dru Down & Numskull
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down & Luniz
Dru Down
Dru Down
[Spoken Intro]
Bad boys, bad boys, what’cha gon’ do?
What’cha gon’ do when they come for you?
Bad boys, bad boys, what’cha gon’ do?
What’cha gon’ do when they come for you?
What the fuck? (What the fuck they gon’ do?)
Man, these muthafuckas trippin’ on TV and shit
You know what the fuck I do, right?
(What you gon’ do, man?)
[Verse 1]
I’m gonna leap out the window, hit a fence in the backyard
‘Cause my Nike Air Jordans don’t mess around with the force
Now I’m ghost, I’m hittin’ ‘em non, stuck on the block
I can hop like a rabbit when it come to the pigs, dig?
I’m from the Eastside, Bay or the Oaktown
You slip when you heavy and now you want me, but I’m gone now
I’m like Flash G, leaping like Carl Lewis, see
But I could still hear the OPD’s walkie-talkies
And now they let the dogs loose
Ain’t feeling like Bruce Willis, but I’m a bad guy, he cooked the birds eye
They’re zooming in with infrared—I’m thinking, ‘damn’
I’m on the run, so that shouldn’t stop a man
I’m thinking of freedom, that’s all I ever need and want
I broke in a house and snatched a woman, gave her 50 bucks
(This ain’t enough) Here’s 100, please put me under
She said (That’s ain’t enough), I said, here, take down my bank number
And put me under tuck like a blanket
I’m hiding on my knees in a basement steady praying
Please, God, ever would save me
You probably came, my life’s been hell since a baby
Maybe, I need to go down and do about 110 years—well, devil’s keep wishing
While I keep on thinking of thoughts and master plans
They open the doors, they send in the dogs to where they think I might have ran
But no tracks could be found, no trails on the ground
I’m still stuck, but I’d be worse if I was handcuffed
It’s been an hour-and-a-half and they still ain’t caught me
Give it up, go have a donut and some coffee
You lost, G, conversate about me at the station
The next time you be runnin’ up, the next time I’ll be waiting
I’m a bad boy, bad boy (what I’ma do)
Take one to the glass chin and be out on you piggie fools
[Chorus]
Sticks and stones will never break my bones
But a billy club would—is that understood?
Whatever it takes, I travel blocks with no socks
Just to get the hell away from the cops
[Verse 2]
Okay, now me being hot, I’m like after the flick of your Bic
I’m the flame, he tell names (oh, never)
No tittle-tattle over here, bruh bruh (you sucka)
The unstoppable, that’s why they call me the B-A-D B-O-Y
That’s how I try to be so no one can defeat me
You gotsta understand the way of the life we live
I don’t forget, it’s never forgive
I just break off a piece of me, P-O-I-S-O-N
Hand it to you and make you shake and then shiver then
I got you frontin’ like Kryptonite had the Superman
I planned it like this, I’m a bad son of a bitch
Freeze DD, you’re under arrest for making lyrically brain-damaging substance
And under suspicion of fleeing from my officers and making my officers look bad
Take three steps to the backseat of the car slowly
One, two, pyoon, hey, don’t give ‘em three
I’m in the tree, and like a birdie, I’m F-R-E-E
Make the call (kurr-kurr), I see my folks over there
They’re tryin’ to warn a brother but not knowing I’m in the air
I swear, things is getting deeper than what I thought
Been running for two hours and I still ain’t been caught
It’s not my fault, somebody spilled the salt
Took a 20 dollar bill from the po-po, now that ass was bought
They’re coming my way, talking about that they smell me, they hear me
They feel me, but can’t see me
Suck my wee-wee, I’m out like a candlelight
Out the tree, over the fence, through the woods, in the hood
I’m feeling safer, threw out the racists
I need to hit Sandra’s up for a little bit of Alhambra
My throat is dry, I pray to God in the sky
I’m a bad boy, to others I’m a bad guy
[Chorus]
Sticks and stones will never break my bones
But a billy club would—is that understood?
Whatever it takes, I travel blocks with no socks
Just to get the hell away from the cops
[Verse 3]
As I knock on the wood door (Who is it?), it’s me
(Me who?) DD, the mack player pimp OG
Let me in, I’m out of wind, I’m being chased by the other race
The fools in blue suits and the big boots
No way, no how, whatever would you catch me
I’m known to be a jackrabbit, nickname is Bugsy
Who is the character who pointed the index finger at me?
Let me pay a visit, watch me pop up in the kitchen
She’s missing, ‘cause I’m a fool at that
I could have her selling crack, or have her on the track
I’m a mack, but I’m not even trippin’ off of po-po
I’m solo, without the gat, I’m still throwing bolos
So say, bro, I know the fetti is looking for me
But homie, I’m coming from the streets, I ain’t no dummy
I’m a bad boy, bad boy (what I’ma do)
Take one to the glass chin and be out on you piggy fools
[Chorus]
Sticks and stones will never break my bones
But a billy club would—is that understood?
Whatever it takes, I travel blocks with no socks
Just to get the hell away from the cops
Sticks and stones will never break my bones
But a billy club would—is that understood?
Whatever it takes, I travel blocks with no socks
Just to get the hell away from the cops
Sticks and stones will never break my bones
But a billy club would—is that understood?
Whatever it takes, I travel blocks with no socks
Just to get the hell away from the mutha-uh cops
Sticks and stones…
[Outro: JT the Bigga Figga]
Nigga gotta get up outta on them muthafuckin’ po-po’s, mayne
Muthafucka gotta get his mail on, that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, huh
You niggas sick over there in the O, boy
Ay, it’s going down like that for the 1994
You got your boy JT the Bigga Figga producing that shit, mayne
Letting that shit be known, straight up out the muthafuckin’ ‘Moe, mayne
I got my boy Dru Down in the house, mayne, and it’s going down for real though
Finna go double platinum on you fools, mayne, for the 9-4 season
Ay mayne, what’s up with that shit, boy?
Nigga, don’t hide it, divide it, nigga…
Bad Boys was written by Dru Down & JT the Bigga Figga.
Bad Boys was produced by JT the Bigga Figga.