| Hey yo the same OG
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| Yo thats my shit
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| Switch CDs, threw on Nas shit
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| Yo in the whip yo the windows clogged up
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| Shorty givin me head mouth clogged up
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| In Flushing Meadows we call it «Lovers Lane»
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| Every nigga probably there probably doin the same
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| From the back seat, front seat
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| Stashed in the glove compartment
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| Where we keep the heat
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| Shorty tried to kiss me
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| I’m like «I don’t kiss
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| Yo don’t take it personal yo some ass this
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| But it’s all good you could still suck my shit»
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| She star-struck bitch just wantin to fuck
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| Askin me repeatedly to say «What what»
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| She sucked my dick til I can’t even bust
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| Yo she, sucked my shit I had no more nuts
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| Ayo it’s time to break before it get too late
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| Had my wife out while I think I’m on a date
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| Then I rolled the Philly and I counted my bread
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| She said «One more time» and she grabbed my head
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| I’m like «Wow she spittin on it gettin on it»
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| Actin like she never had it like she really wanted
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| I heard a knock on the window said «Don't move»
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| Yo I’m nearly stuck shorty jumped right up
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| Heard a nigga say «Don't move and give it up»
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| At this point I’m shook turn around and I look
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| BANG BANG Yeah nigga just shot his ass
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| Broken window plus I got blood on my glass
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| Get the car door open gat in my hand
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| Still scoping lookin for who was approachin
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| Blue suit damn I couldn’t see through the tints
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| Ah fuck it I’ll say that it was self defense
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| But the bitch started yellin raisin hell-in
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| I probably gotta body or two to see tellin
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| But damn yo a nigga just shot a cop
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| Pig’s blood on my clothes pig’s blood on my Glock
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| But they just shot a black man
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| Forty one times
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| He had no gat I got murder rhymes
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| Whatchoo think they would’ve did if they see mine
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| The chick out of control wildin screamin and yellin
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| I told her to chill before we get a felon
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| My hand over her mouth, told her cut it out
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| Gat to the stomach I took the highway hit a hundred
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| Scared to death wishin I left
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| The heat in the crib but I didn’t it was all written
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| The bitch sayin she sick stop bullshittin
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| Alley Cat crib in Jamaica
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| My little cousin he ain’t gon say nuttin
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| «Son it’s hectic right just hold me down aight?»
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| I’m on Wanted Most America
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| All of my phones is tapped now God
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| Yo even my cellular
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| Me and Martymore shout for sure
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| Now we gang bangin yo, Arkansas
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| I got a letter from the government the other day
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| Yo I opened it up and yo I peep what it say
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| It said «You can’t get away ya hear? |
| -The KKK»
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| My niggas is sayin I’m hot makin em hot
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| I’m all over the news for hittin the cop
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| But I’m still poppin, polying with John Cochran
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| He said before we talk, he need a mill
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| I need to give myself up and he can make a deal
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| I said «Fuck no I dont give a fuck though
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| Yo the cop asked for it plus a nigga got dough»
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| The same bitch that I was with I’m still wit
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| Ayo I felt her neck then I felt her tits
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| Ayo the bitch wired then I heard a gat fired
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| Remembered real quick feeling real sick
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| I fell to the floor handcuffed the bitch got me
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| «I was tangled in this all along Papi»
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| Police got one and my Moms got the other copy
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| I got bagged up for a bad suck
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| I guess it’s over now a nigga got bad luck
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| Yo to the mutha fuckin police uptown that shot that man
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| I hope one of ya’ll got to fuckin Attica
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| The other one go to Constalk
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| The other one go to Clinton
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| And the other one go to Sing-Sing
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| And ya’ll all wear wigs and lipstick and get fucked in ya’ll fuckin assholes
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| Fuck the fuckin NYPD |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Flagrant Cops , by - Noreaga. Song from the album Melvyn Flynt Da Hustler, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп