Frankie Cutlass

Frankie Cutlass - Focus lyrics

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What what nigga?
 LB Fam  Frankie Cutlass
 Nine six  Queens most wanted (word up)
 Frankie Cutlass (Frankie Cutlass)
 This is how we do (how we do)
 Focus goin on  everybody in my crew
 From Spig Nice to Tah to my man Pretty Lou
 Check it  Queens escapes
 Put the shit on DAT and a tape
 One time check it out baby boy now (check it out now)
 *chorus*
 Focus your mind on this
 Can we do our thing when we swing we don't miss
 Connect, knock it out the park, what a hit
 It gets deeper, I'm on some keeper, my brother shit [and that's real]
 *repeat except brackets*
 You got a team of real niggaz in the room smokin trees
 Us niggaz stayin blunted the most wanted LB'z
 My family connections blows through East Circuit
 My team is whom I work with, we must stay alert kid
 Cause nowadays niggaz glorify how they be massin
 We in the Jeep passin cheeba peep em as they assin
 out in the game, what's the reason why you came?
 To have these bitches be like askin you a season in your brain
 Flashin jewels, talkin blastin if he pack the tools
 I got a glock to cock back to knock em, flat out your shoes
 Not no, Big Willie puffin Dutches not Phillie
 We packin bubbly act up and we smack a nigga silly
 The name is Mr. Cheeks I keep the dough get on the low stroll
 Take you to the Essence get my swerve on like the pros do
 Baggin bitches makin money bounce without my crews
 In nine-six motherfuck power moves, aiyyo
 *chorus*
 (Mashin Out!!)
 No doubt, body wreck squad bringin it hard
 and get charged, to rip shows in half, word to God
 With clientele like a crack spot, me and my man dwell
 ?Fat blocks and rain sail from in jail to Ascott?
 So yo, focus your mind on this
 Nobody move and nobody get they wig twist
 We real, still packin blue steel
 Knockin brothers way up off of the top of the hill
 Brownsville, M.O.P., Queens you know
 Let them motherfuckers all BO BO BO BO BO!!
 Yo I set shit, come correct with, fat raps that
 rapidly fire like a infra tech spit
 I'm trying to make it happen, no time for wishin
 To tax at least a million is my lifetime mission so
 IN GOD WE TRUST, Firing Squad we bust
 Plus we must roll with the rough, Hometeam
 Teflon, Billy, and Fame, mad Swingas to bring
 That South 9 triple beam dream you been lookin for
 Firing Squad blowin it up
 And if you ain't TIGHT on the MIC
 you ain't RIGHT shut the fuck up
 Now, we represent in some of the illest situations
 And some of the illest places, what happens up ?in demonstrations?
 Stayin down, so you can't see who we are
 Yo, everyday trigger nigga nucca fuck a rap star
 Big up to all street borough
 Brothers from Brooklyn to my rocket launcher packin Bronx niggaz
 keep it thorough
 In the ghetto, my Empire Strikes Back
 How About Some Hardcore? Yeah we like it raw! Keep it like that
 *chorus
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: Frank Malave

Composer: ?

Publisher: Relativity Recordings, Inc.

Details:

Released in: 1996

Language: English

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