Lirik Lagu Brownsville - M.O.P.
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Brownsville's the place where crews seem the livestCops get knocked down body counts' only risingThem streets look Full to ya!Villains look Poor to ya!Them niggas'll Slaughter ya!For your goose NauticaYou got jewels? Stash 'em sonCause there's a thousand niggas brokeAnd we all got guns!And you know what that meansNiggas be open like they smoking caffeineLooking to do a quick stick move and swiftWith your ___ on your hipReady to flipWhenever you empty your clip, dipAnd get the fuck up out of DodgeThat's if you know what's up kidNiggas is getting Mandela timePlus the crackers is corruptedBut then you got them clockers down at 73rdThat was drug associated since the 70's, wordIt's kinda skepticLiving these crazy ways unprotectedEvery day is a jamSo expect the unexpectedCrime time!1-718 Brownsville, BrooklynThe housing property be getting tookenSo we're intendedBe under pressure getting blackmailedVillains using their dealingsMaking killings off of crack salesThe theme song of murderNobody's kidding,These fools are forbiddenAutomatics just be spittin'And devastating, and profoundYou get lumped up soon as you jump upOr get gunned down in Brownsville
Young bucks got guns(Now that's a damn shame)Everybody claim they represent and do they thing...toting in cases hard to believeThe firing squad'll throw your whole borough under siegeBeyond twin chrome and farmersNigga it's Billy DanzeAnd when I'm double clutching my handsThem fuckers won't jamSo my man, if your seeking an advance to your graveIt's the land of the drama lordAnd the home of the fucking braveIt's hard to trust us cause it's mad ruckusWe toe tax with mufflers for small time hustlersIt's blue steel concealed under my sweaterTo calm down whoeverDuke, I move cleverI must keep it stepping, hopsWhen shit be getting' hotI step and bopWhile I stroll with my weapon cockedThe hill that's real, we kill at willClack Clack! Clack Clack!Clack Clack! Clack Clack!Mad guns in your grillIn the 'Ville
Brownsville! (Yeah)Killings here only bring retaliationNo cryingSee dying's an everyday thingSwing 25 niggas down by my battlegroundsI'll move in with 8 thugs that love busting roundsYou know the dealIn my streets your heater be ready to blazeKeep cash in your stashIn case you gotta be SwayzeFor twisting a nigga cap backThat's that work of M.O.P.Who we be? Firing squad of 11233Clack Clack!Whole clips in your backThat's thug styleTurning a small section of BrooklynInto the OK CorralNow, news flashRazorfied leadOne grazed TedTwo paralyzedThree deadGunmen fled the sceneryWith heavy automatic machineryNiggas ain't got nothing to loseAnd yo it seems to beIll niggaKill or be killedIn the 'Ville niggaAll up and down Mother GastonThey blasting steelBlow your stacks and chipsIn AC's with rimsWe be living goodWith a MAC and black TimsKeep this in mindAnd they might not find you in the riverWith the next guyThat fly shit that Brownsville deliver, nigga
Young bucks got guns(Now that's a damn shame)Everybody claim they represent and do they thing...toting in cases hard to believeThe firing squad'll throw your whole borough under siegeBeyond twin chrome and farmersNigga it's Billy DanzeAnd when I'm double clutching my handsThem fuckers won't jamSo my man, if your seeking an advance to your graveIt's the land of the drama lordAnd the home of the fucking braveIt's hard to trust us cause it's mad ruckusWe toe tax with mufflers for small time hustlersIt's blue steel concealed under my sweaterTo calm down whoeverDuke, I move cleverI must keep it stepping, hopsWhen shit be getting' hotI step and bopWhile I stroll with my weapon cockedThe hill that's real, we kill at willClack Clack! Clack Clack!Clack Clack! Clack Clack!Mad guns in your grillIn the 'Ville
Brownsville! (Yeah)Killings here only bring retaliationNo cryingSee dying's an everyday thingSwing 25 niggas down by my battlegroundsI'll move in with 8 thugs that love busting roundsYou know the dealIn my streets your heater be ready to blazeKeep cash in your stashIn case you gotta be SwayzeFor twisting a nigga cap backThat's that work of M.O.P.Who we be? Firing squad of 11233Clack Clack!Whole clips in your backThat's thug styleTurning a small section of BrooklynInto the OK CorralNow, news flashRazorfied leadOne grazed TedTwo paralyzedThree deadGunmen fled the sceneryWith heavy automatic machineryNiggas ain't got nothing to loseAnd yo it seems to beIll niggaKill or be killedIn the 'Ville niggaAll up and down Mother GastonThey blasting steelBlow your stacks and chipsIn AC's with rimsWe be living goodWith a MAC and black TimsKeep this in mindAnd they might not find you in the riverWith the next guyThat fly shit that Brownsville deliver, nigga
