4 Alarm Blaze - M.O.P., Teflon, Jay-Z: текст песни id 24221982
Seventy-five
Raised on a strip called here brotha hill
Where guns pop and cops get killed
This is the place where paranoya
Destroyin niggas cash cases mo try to flash they lawyers
Were losin it Four fives and knives we be movin wit
Caught up in the things that the street game confused you wit
Were provin it Let it be known if retaliation
Home-skillet — its on That rap nigga bust a cap nigga flat nigga
Open up your back nigga Rosewood black nigga
First family gone brawl
Its presidents resident, and Im the first dog
You know the M.O.P status
In the history of crime and rap we some the baddest
Word to the mommy
Any fool try me Get hit wit the Llama
Fuck cuminana
Chorus — Teflon and Lil Fame: 2X
Its a 4 alarm blaze
Everybody post up next to the stage
Come on Youre all welcome to hells roadway
First family style
Buck ass wild
What ya say
Billy Danze:
Get ya man on the jack soldier
Grip your mac soldier
FIRST FAMILY
Were back soldier
And we have swam through the Brownsville sewers
The last on the line of our kind CRIME DOERS
Burkowitz MOB STYLE
Spit fire from my hammer like I wasnt Gods child
Crucify me — but dont deny me Or get slit bitch you couldnt slip nothin by me Try me and Ill pop shots like Im supposed to Im from the field where the covers are unnoticable
Ive noticed a few niggas wantin my head
Used my smarts and my secret all are firin lead (Fire ya lead)
With all intentions of droppin a body
Im usually nervous so Im flinchin when I enter the party
THE BROWNSVILLE NECTAR
That bullshit
Just when you thought it was safe I flipped and hit em wit more shit
Teflon:
Introducin the best kept secret
Its no sweet shit I sleep wit green beret
Blaze enemies frequent
I speak wit authority
(Black) Perhaps through four to be Cap quarterly blazed till its quiet and orderly
The gunsmoke make son soak
The smoke run through the barrel until the gun choke
Raised cold-hearted and deadly
Survive wit a nickel-plated tool and jewels old-timer done fed me Keep my grip steady
Squeeze till they drop off
Make sure all other guns are popped off as heavy
Blowin some high-tech shit
Through your projects
Makin whatever was in my way easy to di-tect
I wrecks guys
Over money gone Saratoga son be in a Columbian necktie
We dont respects by Half-ass niggas
Blast niggas
Gas niggas who wont blast
The sect die
All: 2X
Just when you thought it was safe
The mad shell posse hit you off wit another taste
Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh)
Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah)
Jay-Z:
Yeah, uh-huh, what the fuck
Two asked quick for bastards to step to Leave wounds too drastic for rescue
When I rock jewels it aint to impress you
What the fuck niggas commentin on my shit fo Im real — how you think I got rich ho?
Pack steel — aint afraid to let a clip go I got enough paper to get low
Come back when the shit blow over get the dough over
Huh wit the Rover snatch the gat from the clip holder
Rip through ya shoulder bitch its Jay-hovah
Im too right wit it, too tight wit it You light witted but if youre feel ya nice nigga spit it Who am I?
JAY-Z MOTHAFUCKA
Do or die
IN BROWNSVILLE MOTHAFUCKA
Blocka, rocka, M.O.P collabo
Front on us and gats blow ya know?
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