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You Got the Wrong One

from letters to myself by Boogieman Dela

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lyrics

Verse 1 - Boogieman Dela
Keep my name out your lips unless you're bigging me up act froggy I'll fuck an amphibian up
You don't want to go to war cuz I ain't gon lose
You must got me confused
Don't talk that talk unless you're walking it to
a brick wall do you know what you're walking into
You bleed like me so you're easy to bruise
You must got me confused
Cash on deck, I can get what I want
I stay with a check like the first of the month
You don't got five on it you ain't hitting the blunt,
You must got me confused
The Devil Wears diadoras he don't wear Prada
I'm heavy with it I'm the big Don Dada
Casanova getting Gouda trips to Bermuda
My chick the cutest she tastes so Tutti Frutti
Awww Rudy all root for me
I swear it's my time my whole crew coming
You talk Bout It Bout it then do something
Everybody got guns who gon shoot something
Walking around with the thug face
Looks like I need some money and a hug face
Cash on custy, never been the plug face
Kicks look like first place, mud race
Since back in the day they used to call me Ace
Everything a-1, track record straight
I ain't never say a name check any case
I ain't one of them lames you must be insane
Shells hit the ground like loose change
If your life on the line you should do the same
If you don't do for self you a fuckin lame, if you don't do for a fam you the fuckin same

Hook
You got the wrong one
I ain't in the mood nah
You got the wrong one
You should pick and choose dawg
You got the wrong one
You got me confused uh
You got the wrong one (repeat)

Verse 2 - Boogieman Dela
You got the wrong guy
You got me fucked up I ain't one of them small fries Whenever we walk through the spot we all fried
Except that guy that's holding the 4-5
And if you pull it don't be scared to use it
Might find a bullet in you could have been the shooter
Now you play the Vic like you always used to
Even back in the day
Your own classmates used to school you
I'm not you I'm so glad Hallelujah
You don't ride your mopad with high mileage and no gas your low-class smoking low grade it's so sad
I couldn't be one of your comrades
I only roll with thoroughbreds Who bout they dough
And take care of their real kids
Nigga you roll with pill heads who steal TVs
don't get put in a wheelchair

Hook
You got the wrong one
I ain't in the mood nah
You got the wrong one
You should pick and choose dawg
You got the wrong one
You got me confused uh
You got the wrong one (repeat)

credits

from letters to myself, released February 28, 2020

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Boogieman Dela Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Boogieman Dela is as complex an artists as the name suggests. This Philly native grew up in a large musically inclined family with three sisters and a brother all with an aptitude for singing and various instruments. In Boog's elementary years he studied the drums and the trumpet which began building the foundation of his musical genius.
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