M.O.P. - Brooklyn/Jersey Get Wild Lyrics
Get the lyrics to the song: Brooklyn/Jersey Get Wild by M.O.P. at LyricsKeeper.com.
Brooklyn/Jersey Get Wild
Brooklyn/Jersey Get Wild Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For Brooklyn/Jersey Get Wild By M.O.P.?
Chorus: Treach
Till death do us, can't move us We can rat-tat-a-tat-tat-a or build, it don't matter Holler if you hear this, realness Thugs gon' feel this, Brooklyn banger Jersey jackin Steal shit [Billy Danze] Now we have met and connect with a lot of different MC's [sho nuff] Raised hell to a lot of different degrees And we have the Constitution of Rights to bear arms To flare arms, whenever we fear harm It's near [yeah, clack clack], keep it right If you pro gang, you don't belong around here soldier I'm like fish scale, without the pedastool Come to teach the new school, true school jewels I'm never followin them fools, I'm a real stand up dude I makes my own motherfuckin rules So what's it gonna be, let me know Bucka bucka blow, bucka blow blow, there you go And we foul to eliminate these habits And the best way is to eliminate these faggots All disrespect attended To anybody who may be affended, by the way I represented And I'm no stranger, to danger Dance with a strange man in a field with anger Now ain't that ghetto, for ya Cock sucka, we will proceed to squeeze and sproll muthafuckas Chorus Hook: Treach Till death ditty do us, and they say tough tough ditty to us We'll be stompin bitches till they shoot us, get wild *repeated* [Lil Fame] Who wanna go against the man, that walked across hot fire Banned for the kicked down door for my whole empire Rapid fire, [First Family], Rapid Fire, [M.O.P.] See, I know a lot, seen a lot, don' been through a lot Took a lot, never took a shot God forbid, If I took a hot slug for a reason Try to understand my pain, roll up some trees an' Reminisce on them feels I was bringin Spark up a L, while you got the M.O.P. shit bangin Listen to the words of a nigga, represent that You see I really meant that, for the memories I left back Lil Fame never was a shady ass nigga When it was on, we scar fools and a gravy ass nigga So when you crack ya bottle and you pour ya liquor holla at me [Fizzy Woe Mack] That was my nigga Chorus [Treach] You did ya hit you had to do most Five minutes and you go Comin with ya new show, and watch ya get sumo Doin this shit since gettin whipped for wastin grtis And sneakin out when mom had late shifts and same mix Snakes quit, I flip up flops and f*ck flows I f*ck up ya fun and they don't care who the f*ck knows I'm sutile followed and find and fucked up Before I take out my garbage I frisk a whole dump truck My pump what, so pump up tracks belack back Roll crazy with eighty rollin in stollin jack act Jersey's on the map for car jacks and gat smacks I'm on the map for bringin the bitch outta niggas on wax What, with M.O.P. (several names and shit shouted out) Chorus Hook Yea, salute, salute |
Who Wrote Brooklyn/Jersey Get Wild By M.O.P.?
Chris Colonna
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