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Knicks Video (MV)




Performed By: Cochise
Length: 2:28
Written by: Terrell Cox, Carlos Rebata




Cochise - Knicks Lyrics
Official




(Now I got y'all fools this time, hit it) Yeah
Uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh (Carlos is here)
Uh, uh, uh, okay, uh
Uh, yeah, uh, okay, uh
Uh, uh, uh, yeah
Uh, uh, uh, yeah
Uh, uh, uh, yeah (uh)
Uh, uh, uh, okay (hit it)

I could be a bucket for the Knicks
I know a couple bloods but I know a lot of crips
Want VVS on my necklace but the ocean make me sick (sick)
Got Puma on my body, got me feelin' like I'm Nip (Nip)

I got it don't trip (trip)
I can't be a simp (can't be no simp)
Can't even bother takin' shawty on a trip (out on trip, yeah)
These niggas envy you and then they ask for tips
God wit' me so I do not worry, keep a grip (I keep that grip, yeah)

UPS, I'ma pack 'em up
Take 'em to the trunk
Dat boy outta luck, uh
I'ma leave 'em stuck, uh
Wet that nigga up, uh
Heard he got the Runtz, uh
We go stick him up, yeah
I'ma keep it tucked, uh, yeah
Like a tux, yeah (oh, yeah)
Feeling like I'm guts (oh, yeah)
Tell that boy wassup, yeah
Tell that boy
Now hol' on, cold like Minnesota
Bend the back like folder
In her mouth like molars (hit it)

I can be a center for the Heat
And when it hit the summertime I might just get the Jeep
I hit them wit' the step-back
When I play I'm too elite (I'm too elite)
I'm stepping on they necks
They getting mad because it's cleats, uh (they mad because it's cleats)

I was like, "Wassup?", Yeah (wassup?)
Heard that he been acting up, I know he getting pressed up
Talking tough online but man ain't really have his chest up
619, swing off the rope and caught his neck up
He was blind, hit 'em wit some Yens and now he- (hit it)

UPS, I'ma pack 'em up
Take 'em to the trunk
Dat boy outta luck, uh
I'ma leave 'em stuck, uh
Wet that nigga up, uh
Heard he got the Runtz, uh
We go stick him up, yeah
I'ma keep it tucked, uh, yeah
Like a tux, yeah (oh, yeah)
Feeling like I'm guts (oh, yeah)
Tell that boy wassup, yeah
Tell that boy
Now hol' on, cold like Minnesota
Bend the back like folder
In her mouth like molars (hit it)

I got the racks, I put 'em in packs, I'm making 'em double, yeah
I'm in the back, I'm making my Mac, I'm making it crumble, yeah
My money it's come and so it's abundant
And buzzin' like bumble, yeah
My nigga, they coming at me
I done just did it to show them I'm humble, yeah
Yeah me nuh pay face to all that rumble
I had them running like Rambo, uh, yeah
Just like WWE I'm ready to rumble, yeah
Royal Rumble, I'm make the, uh
I make it tumble, uh, yeah
One in the, uh
Q move R, that's how we rumble, uh yeah (hit it)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


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(Now I got y'all fools this time, hit it) Yeah
Uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh (Carlos is here)
Uh, uh, uh, okay, uh
Uh, yeah, uh, okay, uh
Uh, uh, uh, yeah
Uh, uh, uh, yeah
Uh, uh, uh, yeah (uh)
Uh, uh, uh, okay (hit it)

I could be a bucket for the Knicks
I know a couple bloods but I know a lot of crips
Want VVS on my necklace but the ocean make me sick (sick)
Got Puma on my body, got me feelin' like I'm Nip (Nip)

I got it don't trip (trip)
I can't be a simp (can't be no simp)
Can't even bother takin' shawty on a trip (out on trip, yeah)
These niggas envy you and then they ask for tips
God wit' me so I do not worry, keep a grip (I keep that grip, yeah)

UPS, I'ma pack 'em up
Take 'em to the trunk
Dat boy outta luck, uh
I'ma leave 'em stuck, uh
Wet that nigga up, uh
Heard he got the Runtz, uh
We go stick him up, yeah
I'ma keep it tucked, uh, yeah
Like a tux, yeah (oh, yeah)
Feeling like I'm guts (oh, yeah)
Tell that boy wassup, yeah
Tell that boy
Now hol' on, cold like Minnesota
Bend the back like folder
In her mouth like molars (hit it)

I can be a center for the Heat
And when it hit the summertime I might just get the Jeep
I hit them wit' the step-back
When I play I'm too elite (I'm too elite)
I'm stepping on they necks
They getting mad because it's cleats, uh (they mad because it's cleats)

I was like, "Wassup?", Yeah (wassup?)
Heard that he been acting up, I know he getting pressed up
Talking tough online but man ain't really have his chest up
619, swing off the rope and caught his neck up
He was blind, hit 'em wit some Yens and now he- (hit it)

UPS, I'ma pack 'em up
Take 'em to the trunk
Dat boy outta luck, uh
I'ma leave 'em stuck, uh
Wet that nigga up, uh
Heard he got the Runtz, uh
We go stick him up, yeah
I'ma keep it tucked, uh, yeah
Like a tux, yeah (oh, yeah)
Feeling like I'm guts (oh, yeah)
Tell that boy wassup, yeah
Tell that boy
Now hol' on, cold like Minnesota
Bend the back like folder
In her mouth like molars (hit it)

I got the racks, I put 'em in packs, I'm making 'em double, yeah
I'm in the back, I'm making my Mac, I'm making it crumble, yeah
My money it's come and so it's abundant
And buzzin' like bumble, yeah
My nigga, they coming at me
I done just did it to show them I'm humble, yeah
Yeah me nuh pay face to all that rumble
I had them running like Rambo, uh, yeah
Just like WWE I'm ready to rumble, yeah
Royal Rumble, I'm make the, uh
I make it tumble, uh, yeah
One in the, uh
Q move R, that's how we rumble, uh yeah (hit it)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Terrell Cox, Carlos Rebata
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Back to: Cochise

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