M.O.P.

M.O.P. - Brownsville lyrics

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Cops get knocked down body counts' only rising
 Them streets look   Full to ya!
 Villains look   Poor to ya!
 Them niggas'll   Slaughter ya!
 For your goose Nautica
 You got jewels? Stash 'em son
 Cause there's a thousand niggas broke
 And we all got guns!
 And you know what that means
 Niggas be open like they smoking caffeine
 Looking to do a quick stick  move  and swift
 With your ___ on your hip
 Ready to flip
 Whenever you empty your clip, dip
 And get the fuck up out of Dodge
 That's if you know what's up kid
 Niggas is getting Mandela time
 Plus the crackers is corrupted
 But then you got them clockers down at 73rd
 That was drug associated since the 70's, word
 It's kinda skeptic
 Living these crazy ways unprotected
 Every day is a jam
 So expect the unexpected
 Crime time!
 1-718 Brownsville, Brooklyn
 The housing property be getting tooken
 So we're intended
 Be under pressure getting blackmailed
 Villains using their dealings
 Making killings off of crack sales
 The theme song of murder
 Nobody's kidding,
 These fools are forbidden
 Automatics just be spittin'
 And devastating, and profound
 You get lumped up soon as you jump up
 Or get gunned down in Brownsville


 Young bucks got guns
 (Now that's a damn shame)
 Everybody claim they represent and do they thing
 _____ toting in cases hard to believe
 The firing squad'll throw your whole borough under siege
 Beyond twin chrome and farmers
 Nigga it's Billy Danze
 And when I'm double clutching my hands
 Them fuckers won't jam
 So my man, if your seeking an advance to your grave
 It's the land of the drama lord
 And the home of the fucking brave
 It's hard to trust us cause it's mad ruckus
 We toe tax with mufflers for small time hustlers
 It's blue steel concealed under my sweater
 To calm down whoever
 Duke, I move clever
 I must keep it stepping, hops
 When shit be getting' hot
 I step and bop
 While I stroll with my weapon cocked
 The hill that's real, we kill at will
 Clack Clack! Clack Clack!
 Clack Clack! Clack Clack!
 Mad guns in your grill
 In the 'Ville

 Brownsville! (Yeah)
 Killings here only bring retaliation
 No crying
 See dying's an everyday thing
 Swing 25 niggas down by my battlegrounds
 I'll move in with 8 thugs that love busting rounds
 You know the deal
 In my streets your heater be ready to blaze
 Keep cash in your stash
 In case you gotta be Swayze
 For twisting a nigga cap back
 That's that work of M.O.P.
 Who we be? Firing squad of 11233
 Clack Clack!
 Whole clips in your back
 That's thug style
 Turning a small section of Brooklyn
 Into the OK Corral
 Now, news flash
 Razorfied lead
 One grazed Ted
 Two paralyzed
 Three dead
 Gunmen fled the scenery
 With heavy automatic machinery
 Niggas ain't got nothing to lose
 And yo it seems to be
 Ill nigga
 Kill or be killed
 In the 'Ville nigga
 All up and down Mother Gaston
 They blasting steel
 Blow your stacks and chips
 In AC's with rims
 We be living good
 With a MAC and black Tims
 Keep this in mind
 And they might not find you in the river
 With the next guy
 That fly shit that Brownsville deliver, nigga
Get this song at:
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Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Remag Productions

Details:

Released in: 2002

Language: English

Appearing on: Firing Squad (1996)

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