M.O.P.
M.O.P. - Illside Of Town lyrics
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[HOOK x4:] In the Illside of Town where they... Murder niggas Get down for your crown Murder, murder motherfuckers [Billy Danze] Ayo, Handle UR Bizness now (you might not get the chance later) Some kinda way every day the passion for bustin your crater In the, "ghetto" where trigga fingers usually itchin Here is where I leave for war in the dump, like Richie Rich It gets a mind blowin situation (one occupation get left) New occupation still my niggas feel they facin death We're jumpin on decks, with the jumpers at the tire BLAU! bu- bu- bu- bu- bu- bu- bu- bucka, rapid fire Now, let the preacher preach There's a lesson that need to be taught, and look who I brought to teach I pack fifteen in my 45, pick up niggas wit size Whet up the wildest survive Wack crews will see M.O.P. is the livest Downtown Swingin, index finger exercisers CLAK, CLAK! (cut 'em some slack) fuck that, it's on I know you wanna live, I'd rather see you torn Out the frame, Bill and Lil Fame will still stand I'm thinkin of a master plan to lace your man What make you think that you can fuck with Billy Danze I'll 4-4 'em, flow 'em, blow 'em to show 'em That we don't give a fuck about that nigga we don't know 'wm in the (Illside of Town where they, murder niggas, I'm from the...) [HOOK] Take 'em down [Lil Fame] You know my face I'm from the place wit two pounds And trey pounds, and four pounds kill, for Brownsville You know my face I'm from the place wit two pounds And trey pounds, and four pounds kill, for Brownsville You got drug dealers, gun holders, street rollers Young bitches wit attitudes pushing baby strollers (Ghetto how) we dealin with these savages the average is Deceased or in jail for splittin niggas cabbages The characters that's left still the same fellas They still slingin heavy metal, (aint nothing but the ghetto) But it's like that, aint that right black When my enemies strike, it's only right that I strike back Here in Crooklyn it's trife Criminals out to take everything from your jewels to your life One way to survive on these streets (you choose it) Rip up, load your clip up, slip up, and (you lose it) Cops roll up on you son, got bodies on your gun Caught up in some shit that your moms always warned you from See she won't understand that it's in the environment That's why these trigga happy niggas keep firing I aint just fall into no grave If I gotta get bodied, it gotta be goin out in a blaze I'm fazed, whether it's him or me goin down No matter the repercussions M.O.P. hold it down in the... [HOOK]