| Trying to tell you man
|
| I’m going up in there
|
| Trying to dig into niggas pockets
|
| Fuck that man
|
| Either you be real or you be dead
|
| Hey killer, be a killer
|
| That’s the rules to this game
|
| In the court of the law
|
| With let niggas that feel ya
|
| They know cat dealers
|
| But with some new shit, like Clue shit
|
| We strap for this thriller
|
| You hit the crack house, you pull a mack out
|
| Cock the mack back, blow his back out
|
| And take the back route
|
| And that’s what that’s about
|
| Understand? |
| I wan’t cans in hand
|
| This shit is real, never phony
|
| Don’t come short with my mo-ney
|
| I’ll only tell you once Tony
|
| «Don't fuck me, don’t you ever try to fuck me»
|
| If so, trust me, you outta luck B
|
| And try to sit high where them drugs be
|
| Filthy rich looking broke
|
| Fuck a bitch I wan’t the world thust
|
| Keeping feds of my ass
|
| I gotta think fast
|
| 'Cause black man white town you know this shit won’t last
|
| We try to bumble like ass
|
| Stay low, got to hurl that cash
|
| Into the trouble blow past, that’s how you do it
|
| We got cops and robbers
|
| Niggas and spicks
|
| Flashy cars, ghetto stars
|
| Moving stones and bricks
|
| It ain’t over on the streets
|
| We got blocks to get
|
| So heads up, guns cock
|
| Don’t get rocked to this
|
| Now if the good die young
|
| Then what the fuck that makes me?
|
| And who the fuck are you to rape me?
|
| Less then the best, bulletproof love
|
| The thugs holding it down in the decks
|
| And for the frauds I got techs
|
| Heading straight for your chest
|
| Feel me on this
|
| My word is priceless
|
| You can’t pawn this
|
| I might diss drop jewels
|
| The way I cop jewels
|
| The way my nine drops flues
|
| The way my mind influes
|
| What’s a nigga to do a murder
|
| Type of shit you never heard of
|
| ]From jimbos to fat burger
|
| On some last long shit
|
| I be doing this forever like that nigga Von Zeil
|
| Plus I calm shit, I bomb shit
|
| I had alot of Brooklyn niggas
|
| Saying «Yeah them Bronx niggas they get down»
|
| So hold your heat up, and move fast
|
| You got to keep
|
| Because Clue, Minnesota, Lord Tariq run these streets what
|
| Nigga peep up, talking to the sidewalk
|
| And there’s nothing to comprehend
|
| When my nine talks
|
| I peep the devil screaming BK cause I rock for B.I.G
|
| Live like 'Pac' did, shells couldn’t stop the kid
|
| In some rap I pack, used to be in passing for crack
|
| Molka type of lid with a passing for stacks
|
| Dreads call me African Black named after my medicine
|
| Street veteran with one gun
|
| Killed eleven men
|
| It’s too crazy, y’all fake tough guys with full gazi’s
|
| Blue mercedes, three pounds under the blue avy
|
| Bomb crews my mind power beyond you
|
| Now I push your hair line back
|
| Do what the con do
|
| I warned you, and sworn no talking
|
| Bring the thing out
|
| Got the block surrounded like cops
|
| And shots rang out
|
| Animal instinct, blood type is therobreed
|
| Run with thero heads
|
| Leave you in another burough bed
|
| Respect my hood, like the heats do
|
| Be k to the Bronx
|
| Poor kane, Lord Tariq & Clue
|
| DJ Clue:
|
| Uh-huh
|
| DJ Clue, Professional |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Cops & Robbers , by - DJ Clue. Song from the album The Professional, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп