| That’s that creep, creep mode baby, we in creep mode
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| Don’t come around here, baby, shining like that, yeah
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| It’s crazy on this side, come through, gun through
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| Oh, ya man live out here, don’t go and get comfortable
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| Don’t know what he told you ain’t sweet around here
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| And I don’t care what he told you ain’t sweet around here
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| See you riding that infinity, now that’s not fair
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| What’s that a 2006? |
| Okay
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| Playboy we got balls that ain’t made all day
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| You comin' through the hood straight dangling state, yeah
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| We takin' medium-rare, grilled debatin' us
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| Letting' that slide’s not up for debate
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| Oh, you met, you a local guess what she bait
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| She don’t know right now but trust me the bitch bait
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| I won’t get all in the business that shorty is mad cool
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| My man was diggin' at but she a lil' bit nasty to
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| First time we catch you comin' out the building we snatch you
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| And takin' what’s yours, first thing we ask you is
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| Fuck brought ya ass around here
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| Like you somebody lookin', like the player of the year, boy
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
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| This is Queens lil' homie get caught around here, yeah
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Comin' through for these bitches, shit happen around here, yeah
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
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| Like niggas got something' to live for around here
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| You ask me all these rappers is bums
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| Have showed me the flow and I ran with it dun
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| I mean really, y’all got to be the most worst
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| Rap shit I ever heard compared to P verse
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| We emerge on the scene
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| Everything seems, stop, watch is very bling, bling
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| Nigga wanna swing swing, very much so
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| But once we get in the air that’s a wrap bro
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| Our songs good to go straight to the radio
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| Flex easy on the bomb let these niggas hear to flow
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| We Americas most dangerous to have fans
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| New York, New York, we the kings of the dam
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| We party too much and smoke too much grass
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| And we never see the bright side we only see the bad
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| Fuck all that, it’s a lot of niggas dead
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| And I wont let 'em get me how they got them
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| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Like you somebody lookin', like the player of the year, boy
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| This is Queens lil' homie get caught around here, yeah
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Comin' through for these bitches, shit happen around here, yeah
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Like niggas got something' to live for around here
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| Yeah, cock that, aim that, squeeze that, shoot the steel
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| Cadillac Coupe De Ville, wood grain on the wheel
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| Cocaine in the pot, baking soda water hot
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| When the ice cubes drop, look at that, that’s crack
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| Bag that nigga stack, black hoody fitted hat
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| Grimy nigga with a gat screamin', «Where the money at?»
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| My hood Southside, riders ride that’s right
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| Yayo he know, Banks know, Buck know
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| Shit it ain’t about the dough I ain’t really with it yo
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| Camouflage on the low, ridin' round with the heat
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| I ain’t say wassup to you, nigga you don’t know me
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| I’m on the grind all the time, heavy shine and a nine
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| Clip fill till the tip, stunt I get on some shit
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| Different day, different bitch, old hoody new kicks
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| Oldsmobile fuck that, no rims, hubcaps
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| Keep my eyes open for them niggas that dun buck that
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Like you somebody lookin', like the player of the year, boy
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| This is Queens lil' homie get caught around here, yeah
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Comin' through for these bitches, shit happen around here, yeah
|
| Fuck brought ya ass around here
|
| Like niggas got something' to live for around here |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Creep , by - Mobb Deep. Song from the album Blood Money, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп