BROOKLYN ZU - Blood Is Love lyrics

rate me

Love is love, we bang with you, cause

We from the streets, don't die tryin' to eat, blood

We carry heat and wait for beef

Got niggaz that'll stab you and watch you leak, blood

Love is love, we bang with you, cause

We from the streets, don't die tryin' to eat, blood

We carry heat and wait for beef

Got niggaz that'll stab you and watch you leak

Yo, bet I ain't worried about none of you cats (nah)

I'll smack you, drag you, stab you then clap you (come here)

Aftermath you, Franklin Shuttle strap you

Bastard you, it's no games with you

So, take ya stickin', drippin', that's smellin Dirty & Stinkin'

Ya sinkin' from fuckin' with them kings of sin

The team that win is Zu carved in every skin

A Few Good Men who refuse to die, never let you win

You Gone with Wind, arm ya men, I'll run through them

Anybody left? Sixteen slugs in him

You can't win, I said it, meant it, live it

Done did it, man, all y'all niggaz just forget it (huh?)

I rock and roll with soul, my A/K/A Sideshow

My niggaz talk in codes, Little Freedom told me "Lock and load"

I'm so with it, and my style is meal ticket

I let my gun glistens, when I toss ain't no missin'

Pour me some cheap wine, I got livin' on my mind

And I'm a for sure shine, y'all niggaz know the time

Full of street crime, eat, sleep, shit with the nine

Sit back and recline as I burn some good pine

Niggaz ain't used to shit

Niggaz get a little bit of bread they don't know how to act

I'm a about to start settin' traps for cats like that

A Brooklyn Zu warrior yo holla right back

Yo, niggaz got the game fucked up

Talkin' 'bout this "Bling, Bling" and all this cars and stuff

Shit I'm 'bout to be evicted

I'm lookin' for the next thing I could stick quick

Buddha give me the gat

Stashbox Mercedes Jeep

Got rocks in the Jesus piece, and the teeth, nigga

Twenty threes on the MB, the Gucci fleece

Von Dutch, pair of jeans and them Puma sneaks

See ya "Scrubs" like TLC

I'm in the Benz on the BQE burnin' trees listenin' to M.O.P.

Pounds of weed sown in the seam in the seats

Big guns and we yellin' like "Fuck the Police"

Got niggaz that's natural born thieves

And they tie a nigga up from the bottom of his pants to his sleeves

Tell the truth and you better believe

Put the barrel to ya head right now nigga, dare you to sneeze