M.o.p.

M.o.p. - Brownsville lyrics

rate me

Brownsville's the place where crews seem the livest

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

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