Lyrics Breakin' the Rules - M.O.P.

Breakin' the Rules

I’mma semi-automatic addict for real
Before you test me
Know I feel that the impact from a gat when it kicks back is sexy
I put you motherfuckers back on the real tip
And get to splitting a nigga’s shit
(Ain't nothin changed) I take these motherfuckers back to '86
And get to dumpin off a clip
(You know the game) You wanna test me?
(You gotta)
Wait your turn B
There’s a long line of niggas that’s ready to burn me
I put my foot down firmly
Stick the nose of my gun in some shit that don’t concern me
And most dudes don’t like the way I rep
The brown-skinned cat with a helluva side step, yep
Berkowitz, (Retreat!)
I would never be disconnected from these streets
Its deep, as the (ocean!) and my (potion!)
Is to (know when!) to spit fire, nigga (nigga)
The rules of the motherfucking game…
Here it is: ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)
When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)
Cause some cats be fakin the move
In other words, breakin the rules!
(STOP THAT!)
We make ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)
When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)
Cause some cats be fakin the move
In other words, breakin the rules!
Make way, bitch, I’m coming through
I’m Fizzy Wo dog, who the fuck are you?
Y’all niggas be, listenin to that false information
Here’s your invitiation
Thugs know home team from the BK and move niggas
Run with them guns bust off like John Woo
Try to sabotage the game, I’mma start somethin
Try to sabotage my name, I’mma start dumpin!
Why do fucking motherfuckers act like y’all don’t be known?
Fizzy Wo, nigga, going for broke
So when you loc, come and hit you with something that gigantic
Automatic and will make your ship sink like the Titanic
Now that I know, that you against me
And you *click*, you *click*, you against me, too
Tell his man, to tell his man, work out another master plan
Cause I’mma blast a man, what?
Here it is: ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)
When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)
Cause some cats be fakin the move
In other words, breakin the rules!
(STOP THAT!)
We make ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)
When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)
Cause some cats be fakin the move
In other words, breakin the rules!
Allow me to express my deepest sympathy
To the family of the cat, that, was hit with the penalty
I begged him not to fuck with me (I tried)
He didn’t listen
So they found his ass missing
Put my barrel of my hammer in the back of his mouth
And knocked his head out, do or dead now
Cold, he actually thought I would fold
So I tore him a new hole, word to nigga’s soul!
When I jump off, or I dump off, about eight rounds
Holdin my spot down, I’mma knock down, about eight clowns
Nigga, don’t you ever fuck around
With the four-pound token
Bonified thugster (what!) Brownsville slugger
Ex-mugger, for your knucka, bucka, bucka
Bitch motherfucker!
(Fuck ya)
You musta bought a can of heart
Flinch and I’mma tear your ass apart
Come on, straight like that, nigga
Firing Squad, nigga.
Ha-ha-hah.
Hundred years and runnin.
Yeah, one of
My motherfuckin men, Flipper the Ripper.
Y’know what I’m sayin, my
Nigga City, Teflon.
Firing Squad, nigga.
For life *echoes* Yeah