Dj Clue?

Dj Clue? - Cops And Robbers lyrics

Your rating:
(Lord Tariq & Muggs talking)
 Trying to tell you man
 I'm going up in there
 Trying to dig into niggas pockets
 Fuck that man

  {Lord Tariq}
 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

 Chorus:
 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
 (2X)

 -{Lord Tariq}-
 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

 Chorus(2X)

 -{Muggs}-
 I peep the devil screaming BK
 'Cause I rock for B.I.G.
 Live like pop 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

 Chorus(2x)

 DJ Clue:
 Uh-huh
 DJ Clue, Professional
 Roc-A-Fella
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found