| Living legends in the game, niggas been fly
|
| Think back, when we first entered the stage
|
| Let that Brook-nam rhythm and rage out the cage, nigga
|
| How Many MC’s screaming U Da Man
|
| Buck 'em Down with that Black Smif-N-Wesson in my hand
|
| Champion hood fatigues, all black chuckers
|
| Where the soldiers walk tight than a million muthafuckas
|
| I don’t give a fuck, I’ve been jumped a hundred times
|
| Stabbed alot of niggas, committed a hundred crimes
|
| Bitch, I ain’t buying that, give you a raincheck
|
| Gladly pay you Tuesday for seriously brain that
|
| Sound Bwoy Bureill, chi-chi man funeral
|
| Headz Ain’t Redee ain’t ready to shoot, niggas salute
|
| The elite generals of the street and gun play
|
| Ruste Juxx, Boot Camp, BK all day
|
| The streets are hard knocks, where police swarm blocks
|
| Where every other soldier keep they firing arm cocked
|
| Gorillas on that grind, it’s a Brooklyn state of mind
|
| Make money, take money, a famous motto of mine
|
| When you find the hardest nigga, tucking in they shine
|
| They know the rules’ll get 'em, if you blink one time
|
| So it shouldn’t be a mystery, the man that gangsta history
|
| The general, the fever, blaze ya out another victory
|
| All you niggas running ya mouth, and don’t mean shit to me
|
| Leaving your body numb like Pepsi Twist mixed with the Hennessey
|
| Got a shell for every single one of my enemies
|
| Brooklyn pumping blood through my heart, to the death of me
|
| This is the original Bucktown bullies
|
| From the same block where they bust shots at police
|
| Like, blow, everywhere I look
|
| Somebody shook when they lost in the city of Brook'
|
| And umm, ya’ll know every block is danger
|
| If you not on point, somebody came up
|
| Fuck the stranger, beware of your neighbor
|
| Cuz when he broke, that’s when he change up to bring the banger
|
| Finger on the trigger, as we look closely
|
| At the car when he ride slow, cuz we don’t really know pa
|
| Ya’ll know how we do around here
|
| Who we screw around here, if we new around here
|
| You hear my gun ball go in, shotgun toting
|
| Heavy pitch blowing, nigga back the fuck up
|
| Who you know fucking with the U.G.P
|
| Underground prince of hood H.O.P
|
| I’m a world wide hustler, Brooklyn gangsta
|
| When the east is in the house, «OH MY GOD» danger
|
| Did too much dirt to wipe my hands clean
|
| And I love new money, so fresh and green
|
| See the borough I’m from, we be on that bullshit
|
| Fuck ya baby mama, hit you up quick
|
| We play with whole bricks, nigga, get that weight
|
| Respect my grind, 718, the great
|
| Use caution when you crossing that Brooklyn Bridge
|
| Don’t get caught up out here with them Crooklyn kids
|
| Real gritty, that’s just how we live
|
| Fitted '59 fitties over Scarface grills
|
| Bedstuy, to the East, to the 'Ville
|
| We get hype when we eat, give you fights for the thrills
|
| We in the house, in the place getting field
|
| Fights live through the breakout, the chain, get peeled
|
| Girlfriends bang out with airbrushed nailis
|
| Snatch your bitch weave right out
|
| You from the projects, your man ain’t real
|
| Getting house forced objects, it’s like that? |
| Yeah
|
| Fuck your gun talk, play 'No Doubt', you 'Gwen' 'don't speak'
|
| You ain’t shooting nothing but air, you Nintendo Wii
|
| Fuck the industry and fuck being in those streets
|
| I’m from the low down, you can’t even go in those peeps
|
| It’s an animal hunt, think I damage your hunt, your man in the front
|
| Get snap shot without a camera, son
|
| The animal’s hunting the animals, the pigs is the worstest
|
| Well, not to the rats and the bird niggas
|
| Fuck them, they can’t stop you from getting your food ate, they just
|
| Make it hard to eat like toothaches
|
| Pause, difficult to eat like toothaches
|
| I be having myself and I like shoelace |