| Uhh, yeah, c’mon, Black Rob
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| Where Black Rob at?
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| PD world tourer, Harlem horror
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| We back
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| Yeah ya-, ya-, y’all thought we was gonna stay away for a long time
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| So what you gon do now?
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| Sorry, let’s go
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| CHORUS: P Diddy
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| Yo Black Rob makin all stops we gon party till this motherfucking ball drops
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| Snatchin all props
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| Switchin gears on the Ducati, cats schemin prob’ly
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| But we ain’t tryin na hurt nobody (we ain’t tryin na hurt nobody)
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| We just tryin na make it clear, there B.R. |
| is here
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| And we come to lock it down this year
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| So without further ado, we bring to you (without further ado)
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| You highness, (your highness), Black Rob, Spanish Harlem’s finest
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| I be the PD world tourer, Harlem horror
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| Catch me in a Lex 470 or the Explorer
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| The underworld figure, mo morals
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| Small shit it’s only room to get bigger and spread love on my niggas
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| I figure I’m the best thing since ham and grits
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| That shit flip it, it’s off the hook, it’s unlisted
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| The wizard like Juwan Howard
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| I drop the bomb when you want test the Don power
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| It’s on dude, I warned you before the wildin
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| My team some sick cats fresh from Ward’s Island
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| I’m sayin, I try to tell em how I do due to the fact you
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| Was duckin my debut, duckin the ginsu
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| B.R., natural born threat
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| He got his tech and I ain’t even put it on yet
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| Just imagine, me and you toe to toe back of the paddywagon
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| To the death, till one of us got no breath left
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| Protect that neck
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| I roll with soldiers, quick to run pass and snuff you
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| Regulate the streets of BK with brass knuckles
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| At last stuck you, and your so called team
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| Them so called mean, cats sound like Ben Vareen
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| Caught me, diggin in the scene, 115, Lex minivan light green
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| Watching my cream, stopping my cream
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| Shit’s been tried before, my shit’s stress, with no lactose at all
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| I mean I’m just limpin, cuz right now I see the profit
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| Show me some grams I chop it, show me some land I cop it
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| Show me some ho somewhere in the tropics
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| And I’mma suck the pussy till she beg me to stop it
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| That’s real, I’mma tell you how the black man feel
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| Pack toast but still catch him with the backhand steel
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| Pimp status, while you run around with shrimp status
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| Got a gat and decided to clap at least twenty right at us
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| We ain’t mad though, we got the bulletproof dough
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| And that’s the way my niggas roll, if you was seein his dough
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| You’d be the same baby
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| Yo when I walk up in the place all eyes is on me
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| Is it me, or the hundred grand worth of icy
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| Can’t underestimate me I beg your pardon
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| If y’all ain’t had guns I probably woudn’t of brought my squadron
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| But unfortunately it’s that war outside
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| And I still roll with bulletproof doors on my ride
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| They call me PD, holy like Koran
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| Rockin Sean John, poppin Sean Don
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| Fucking ghetto Don Juan
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| Top of the world, watch me snatch your hood treasure
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| Might have to check a few cats for good measure
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| Playboy you know the drilly, y’all cats is real silly
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| What I gotta do sell another ten milly
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| It’s crazy how they all fall down, all balls down
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| It’s hectic so I send Black to come and check it
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| Ain’t shit changed, same shit stains, in the business
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| Approach me, play me closely, hopin hopefully (keep hopin)
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| Before I slip I let you know that I’m on to ya
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| Your hands’ll never touch my Bad Boy formula
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| And this year, I’m gonna hit em severe
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| Ayo Paul, get the Bent let’s get the fuck up outta here |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song PD World Tour , by - Black Rob. Song from the album Life Story, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп