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lyrics:
| | | Artist: | |
| | Album: | Unknown | | Track: | | | Views: | 1 | | | | Lyrics: | Lil Fame:
Seventy-five
Raised on a strip called here brotha hill
/>
Where guns pop and cops get killed
This is the place where paranoya
Destroyin niggas cash cases mo try to flash they lawyers
Were losin it
Four fives and knives we be movin wit
Caught up in the things that the street game
confused you wit
Were provin it
Let it be known if retaliation
Home-skillet - its on
That rap nigga bust a cap nigga flat nigga
Open up your
back nigga Rosewood black nigga
First family gone brawl
Its presidents
resident, and Im the first dog
You know the M.O.P status
In the history of crime
and rap we some the baddest
Word to the mommy
Any fool try me
Get hit
wit the Llama
Fuck cuminana
Chorus - Teflon and Lil Fame: 2X
Its a 4 alarm blaze
Everybody post up next to the stage
Come on
/>
Youre all welcome to hells roadway
First family style
Buck ass wild
/>
What ya say
Billy Danze:
Get ya man on the jack
soldier
Grip your mac soldier
FIRST FAMILY
Were back soldier
And we have swam through the Brownsville sewers
The last on the line of our kind CRIME
DOERS
Burkowitz MOB STYLE
Spit fire from my hammer like I wasnt Gods child
Crucify me - but dont deny me
Or get slit bitch you couldnt slip nothin by
me
Try me and Ill pop shots like Im supposed to
Im from the field where the
covers are unnoticable
Ive noticed a few niggas wantin my head
Used my smarts
and my secret all are firin lead (Fire ya lead)
With all intentions of droppin a body
Im usually nervous so Im flinchin when I enter the party
THE BROWNSVILLE
NECTAR
That bullshit
Just when you thought it was safe I flipped and hit em wit
more shit
Chorus 2X:
Teflon:
Introducin the best kept secret
Its no sweet shit I sleep wit green beret
/>
Blaze enemies frequent
I speak wit authority
(Black) Perhaps through four to
be
Cap quarterly blazed till its quiet and orderly
The gunsmoke make son soak
The smoke run through the barrel until the gun choke
Raised cold-hearted and
deadly
Survive wit a nickel-plated tool and jewels old-timer done fed me
Keep my
grip steady
Squeeze till they drop off
Make sure all other guns are popped off as
heavy
Blowin some high-tech shit
Through your projects
Makin whatever
was in my way easy to di-tect
I wrecks guys
Over money gone Saratoga son be in a
Columbian necktie
We dont respects by
Half-ass niggas
Blast niggas
/>
Gas niggas who wont blast
The sect die
All: 2X
/>
Just when you thought it was safe
The mad shell posse hit you off wit another taste
Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh ) Uh (Uh)
Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah)
Jay-Z:
Yeah, uh-huh, what the fuck
Two asked quick
for bastards to step to
Leave wounds too drastic for rescue
When I rock jewels it
aint to impress you
What the fuck niggas commentin on my shit fo
Im real -
how you think I got rich ho?
Pack steel - aint afraid to let a clip go
I got
enough paper to get low
Come back when the shit blow over get the dough over
Huh
wit the Rover snatch the gat from the clip holder
Rip through ya shoulder bitch its
Jay-hovah
Im too right wit it, too tight wit it
You light witted but if youre
feel ya nice nigga spit it
Who am I?
JAY-Z MOTHAFUCKA
Do or die
IN BROWNSVILLE MOTHAFUCKA
Blocka, rocka, M.O.P collabo
Front on us and gats blow
ya know?
Chorus: 2X | | | |
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