Shout out my name, you bitch 



[Verse 1] 

Oh, yeah, who wanna rip with Styles? 

The whole place on the lookout for Mr. Brown 

We've got, plenty of clues and forensic files 

Plus, envious crews, so we trip for miles 

It's (Mister Brown!) 

Yeah, you know the drill 

Never holdin' 'em still 

Roll 'em over the hill 

Just glide, close your mouth and open the blinds 

Took the wings off a bird and let it float to the side 

Say (What?) to hear me callin 

Shoutin out my name and playin' this in the Walkman 



[Chorus] 

Aiyo, crash the gates 

Aiyo, pack the place up 

Break stuff, takin' all the paper 

I'mma stay laced up 

Keep a shank tucked, take a pay cut 

Even let you keep the dang paste up (really?) 

Say somethin, punk, what, put away the blank gun 

Fakes wanna talk about bank but they make none 

Live from the sweatbox, sucking on the [???] 

Pop some, lookin' for the foxhunt, peace 



[Verse 2] 

Yo, the joke's over, slap the bloke sober 

Catch a .40 caliber case of glaucoma 

Riders like Johnny Depp rollin' with Winona 

Big trunk fulla shit, blow the globe up 

So what? nobody knows us, got no love 

Pop 6, Ryu and Tak, cops know what it does 

Hot shit by the bungalow, drop the bloody glove 

Won't get caught killin' today, baby, cause I'm a thug 



Bottles of beer from the land of five horses 

Man who wasn't there like Billy Bob Thornton 

Crush-crew landin in, steppin' into the scene 

Fertilize new lawns, a Requiem for a Dream 

It's (Mister Brown!), legendary assignment 

Searchlights hover, but can't seem to find him 

Track down whatever you can in the mist 

In this case, it's strictly the hand of a fist 

So (What?), keep your eyes peeled, post and look fresh 

Like, Mammoth and Ideal (???), hope to hook checks 



Aiyo, what's up, ticket the blows 

Plus, jack whoever wanted with us, get slapped up, (UH) let it be known 

Mr. Brown got somethin' to bust 

The blue steel touchin' his nuts 

The pump got a sick mind of it's own 

Oh, crackin' the globe like the edible egg 

A nuclear rap bazooka with incredible aim 

Who can you blame? I'm a troop cooped in a cage 

And it's a thin line between a chipped tooth and a fang, come on 



Yo, it's just one of those things 

Where you wanna ride but it just won't swing 

Wanna kick a rhyme, but it just don't bang 

Oh, you've got that new shit that still sounds played 

Yo, it's just one of those things 

Where you wanna ride but it just won't swing 

Wanna kick a rhyme, but it just don't bang 

Oh, you've got that new shit that still sounds played