M.O.P. [Rap]

Time to duck, fire
Duck, fire, duck, fire
Duck, fire, duck, FIYAAAAAAAHHH!

(U Dont know what you're doing, doing, doing, doing)

It's the MOP(Yes) 1, 1, 2, 3, 3
And motherfucker we comin, 100 miles and gunnin
I'm still runnin with cash that's robbed
From the era of exhale 80's and hats back stomp
(SAME GAME!) operation for this industry lockdown
We still tote hammers that go BLOCKOWWWW
Run up if you wanna, believe me dog
These hammers with they owners, fuck ya G up
Have ya with blue 'jamas in a coma, and
Ya family now moan, look, 70 pounds gone
A little fuck, scribbled up with a hospital down on
(WE HOLDIN IT DOWN HOLMES!)keep pushin weak frail bastards
To get over, we prowl with slimmer re-shelled tactics
Jiminy frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups
No limit, what the fuck, recordin for nig' junior
(The game aint changed)it just got harder
Plus we sponsored by laz' Dame Dash and Mr. S. Carter
Brownsville(yep), we stomp in this bitch all day
Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage

Uh, Uh, Uh, I'm from the G side of thangs
Where we ride and bang, where the heat died of flame
That's how we got the name(WARRIORS!)
And better than ya bank, and someone should be tellin 'em
The veterans have came, and we're better in the game
(YOU BETTER MAKE IT RAIN!) "27 grams" my man
It's better than cocaine, now everything will change
In this family we'll rule the world
And you haters can eat a dick up till you hiccup and erm
A decade on the grind, nigga I paid mine
So it's my time to shine and for you can ride the pine
I wont sit back and rap like these dumb ass kids
I been around, I put it down, I aint these young ass kids
(MOP!) The OG's repped and survived around this motherfucka
(FIRST FAMILY!) We kept it live around this motherucka
When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay
For shizzle my nigga, learn to grip pistols and BK

WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Turn my music high, high, high, high-er
Mo' fire, mo' problems, more Roc-a-wear attire
Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired
Mo' murder for the ROC empire, ya'll wont surface
Ya'll nervous knowin them guns on full service, ready to fire
One body, two body, three body, four
Young sittin on paper, I'm above the law
Young shittin on haters, I aint fuckin with ya'll
For my Brownsville neighbors, How About Some Hardcore?
And it just get worser, every time I write my signature in
cursive
Just add another million to these verses
One million, two million, three million, four
And the money's really worthless, I'm pissing you off on
purpose
My nephew's situated, and my mama's straight
So I'm ready for whatever drama should come our way
And you fuckers rappin to me, so your drama is fake
Ya'll niggas is noodles, I got more fetti to bake
Let's get it!

"I would like to play a.. little tune I just composed not so long ago"
"Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie Holiday"
*HORNS*
*drum roll* *piano keys played*
*HORNS*
"Byrd..?" *trumpet solo* *group horns*
"The music called jazz.." -) Guru
*HORNS*

[Guru]
It's roots are in the sounds of the African
or should I say the mother.. bringin us back again
From the drummin on the Congo, we came with a strong flow
and continue to grow
Feet move, to the beat of the t'balo
Now dig the story and follow
For then it landed, on American soil
Through the sweat, the blood, and the toil
Hear, "Praise the Lord," shouted on chain gangs
Pain they felt, but it helped them to maintain
Scott Joplin's rags, Bessie Smith's blues
St. Louis blues, they were all the news
Ringin smooth.. in all the listeners ears
Fulfillin the needs, and plantin the seeds
of a jazz thing

King Oliver's group was a train comin through
to Chicago, bringin the New Orleans groove
And when Satchmo blew, the audience knew
Basil Street blues was the whole house tune
it was music.. great to dance to
Great to romance to with a lot to say to you
Relaying a message, revealing the essence
of a jazz thing

* DJ Premier cuts "jazz music" *

In the 40's came be-bop, the first be-bop
The real be-bop, so let me talk about
Diz' and Byrd, givin the word
Defining how a beat could be so complete
Playing with ferocity, thinkin with velocity
About ornathology, or anthropology
and even ?, and this is real history
Theolonious Monk, a melodious thunk
No mistakes were made with the notes he played
His conception, was ?re condite?
A star glowing bright among dim lights
The critics did cite that he sounded alright
Charlie Mingus, such nimble fingers
Droppin the bass, all over the place
and Max Roach, cymbals socking
Bass drum talking, snare drum rocking
Restructuring.. the metaphysics
of a jazz thing

John Coltrane, a man supreme
He was the cream.. he was the wise one
The impression of Afro Blue
and of the promise, that was not kept
He was a GIANT step, and there was Ornette Coleman
He was another soul man
The original invisible, playing great music
I wonder why the ?Bangles? couldn't use it
Now listen see
The real mystery is how music history
created by white men or any other white man
that pretended he originated "uh-huh.."
and contended that he innovated "uh-huh.."
a jazz thing
("Of course we know who can really blow")
Scheamin on the meaning
of a jazz thing

And this music ain't dead, so don't be misled
by those who said that jazz was on it's deathbed
Cause when Betty Carter sings a song
ain't nuttin goin on, but simply good music
And you won't refuse it
She's takin her time, makin the nuances rhyme
Sonny Rollins, tenor saxophone
with a big old tone, recitin poems
with notes as words, and haven't you heard
NEXT STOP BUTTER, RIGHT PAST OLEO
Now there's young cats blowin
And more and more people, yes they will be knowin
Jazz ain't the past, this music's gonna last
and as the facts unfold, remember who foretold
The 90's, will be the decade of
a jazz thing "I love jazz music" (3X)

* Primo scratches "I love jazz music" *

A jazz thing..

[Chorus: unknown singer]
I've been goin through so much pain
Can't no motherfucker feel my pain
My life is real nigga, I'm gon' ride
For my homies on the block that died
It's dedicated to my niggaz that's locked
Who's OT on the run from the cops
We straight G's and we never gon' stop
For my street niggaz gotta keep your head up
Gotta keep your head uuuuuuuuuup

[Verse One]
Where the fuck is your love, y'all in the club poppin bub
Somebody told me that the block need a hug
Ain't nobody tell y'all that slap need a hug
That's the reason I'm out here huggin the block
Same reason I'm out here thuggin the block
But niggaz won't notice until a motherfucker get shot
And stretched out on the block, and the shit won't hit 'em
'til they like "God damn, I was just now with him"
Now you missin a man that you used to call your man
Cause you didn't notice your man was fucked up in a jam
And your plan that you had for your man, you shoulda brought it to him sooner
Now he fucked up with his back all chewed up
21 gun salute up, to all the G's feelin pain
Like Fame; niggaz fucked up in the game
Niggaz try to maintain, even if nobody showed you
That they noticin what a nigga been goin through... nigga

[Chorus]

[Billy Danze]
Yeah, every day what we deal, we tend to blame it on the realness
Haters never cater to a 'Ville nigga feeling
Mixed up in the past and the present
A lot of shit, went down in the town am I destined, to win or not
That's the question, you can always count on Bill
To reveal the message, when givin a confession
In other words there's a blessing in the lesson
You ain't gotta stick to the script to catch it (catch it)
We had a whole platoon of goons to rep
Then it was like... BOOM, there's 7 of us left
Some got knocked and locked inside cages
A few got popped and stopped at young ages
Enables me to rock hip-hop with these rages
And boomerang pain through Fame when on stages
It's dark and it's bold
I keep a heater cause I'm smart and it's cold

[Chorus]

[Lil' Fame]
I'm holdin on to thin air! (Look around homey)
Nobody there! (Look around homey)
Nobody care! (I bet you know now homey)
But life is still beautiful, that's what you do it for
Couldn't feel my pain; God forbid you had
To feel my pain I wouldn't wish that on nobody
Never ask why me? That's a stupid-ass question
Cause if not me, nigga then who?
We all deal with pain, and mine ain't no harder than yours
It's really all about how you deal with it
So a nigga can't judge me; I can't tell you how
To deal with yours, but don't kill me [words fade]

[Billy Danze]
(We're amongst these O.G.'s and rebels) the coppertops will (never)
If money war (we steppin in) please (understand it)
For always we (reppin it) and y'all ain't (touchin it)
The ghetto steel (blessin 'em) man

[Chorus]

Fuck outta here nigga
We the reason why y'all niggaz rap hard... nigga

[M.O.P.]
Uh! (the big boy game) What is nigga (the big boy game)
Uh, (the big boy game) man.. child.. (big boy game)
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! (the big boy game)
We make you wanna punch a nigga in his motherfuckin mouth
(The big boy game) Same game nuttin changed
(The big boy game) We built the building

[Lil' Fame]
Grab a, hold of yourself, open your eyes
Get wise, to the M.O.P. (nigga!)
Get live, with the M.O.P. (nigga!)
Get down, or get pound the fuck out
Got the 40 cal' tucked
Shorty mad from the 'Ville and I'm all grown up
Don't owe niggaz nothin, come on roll up
I'ma loan you a quick four or five bucks, BUK BUK BUK BUK BUK
POM! Momma prayed, momma cried
But don't cry ma I come too far
They ain't gon' do me like Half-A-Mil or Freaky Tah
They ain't gon' do me like they did my friend Nick Pavacho
Blow the horns on 'em, not now but right now
{*oriental sample*} Salute!
To the homies that's gone, dogs behind bars
Fuck that, gimme four more bars
Don't ask me what the beef is, I got love for both sides
So a nigga rock mismatched sneakers
One foot S. Dots the other foot Pro Keds
I rock box, with some Armadales to the head, and I'm good

(The big boy game... the big boy game)
Same game nuttin changed (The big boy game... the big boy game)
Oh! (The big boy game) Nigga... the big boy game
The big boy game...

[Billy Danze]
Where, yeah, yeah, G'Z UP! Yeah, it's the legendary Danze
Tell the hood it's all good to never bury the man
And I'm comin with a flurry of plans, and if it don't work
I'm back on the block with a glock goin berzerk
And if you see me in the club nigga, know I'm on point
Don't get your brain matter splattered all over the joint
Reasons, that motherfucker never played fair
We just, showed you niggaz how to PUT IT IN THE AIR
JESUS! Here come them God damn dudes
(STILL) grimey (STILL) gutter (STILL) ghetto and (STILL) rude
(STILL) real (STILL) 'Ville (STILL) labelled as bad news (hahahaha)
And still the reason why you fuckers won't move
BACK WITH A VENGEANCE, just me and Fizzy Wo'
KICK YOUR SHIT UP OFF THE HINGES, just me and Fizzy Wo'
Brownsville homey, in case you didn't know
In the middle of the street with po-po like BO BO

(The big boy game) Nigga... (the big boy game)
(Big boy game... big boy game)
(The big boy game... it's the big boy game)
(The big boy game... it's the big boy game) Marxmen

(feat. Foxx, Inf)

You niggaz, left us, for dead

[Chorus x2: unknown singer]
It ain't hard to tell, I wanna be yo' boo-hoo
It's obvious to see, that I wanna be with you

[Inf]
Damn ma, I spot your from afar, what's your name (Foxx)
Where you from (Bronx) that's what's up
Just wanna get to know ya, play my cards right, get closer
And if possible, I wanna rock wit'chu
True story - ain't spittin no game, just facts
I'm from ivy league, higher stacks expect that
So let's go somewhere yo and twist up a L
Chatter ring a bell, cause it ain't hard to tell

[Foxx]
It ain't hard to tell that you feelin me boy
You could be a candidate in this race for bringin me joy
And anyway I think I do need a toy
I won't take nothin fake I need the real McCoy
So let's rock for a minute we can slide in a minute
Up the, Westside and take a ride in my rented
It's the, best time - you see the moon lookin right
It's somethin about the way the stars shine at night
And you can tell me how you think I should be treated
How my life is incomplete and how you feel you can complete it
There's no one to compete with, I never been conceited
What you sayin I believe it but I sho' would like to see it and..

[Chorus]

[Inf]
Ma I got you just roll with me
Or just, just walk these dogs with me I'ma show you how it's supposed to be
I ain't gon' talk about it no more, I'ma just
Just, just listen, just listen

Women like you, really don't come by that often
That's why I do things that stay gettin you off often
Love your type, roll a L or wrap a dutch
Any ho that act up, the bitch is gettin smacked up
By my side, like my pistol she'll ride
Even when the road is rocky, she holds me down properly
'Til the end, the both of us playin to win
We ain't Bonnie & Clyde, c'mon ma, let's take a ride

[Foxx]
You keep talkin like we side to side
And like you got me the Foxx all mesmerized nigga
I got pride, there will be no foolin around
'til you make this one and only female your bride
C'mon ladies stand up and be a witness
His weak-ass lines are so tired and relentless
Picture this I just met this kid, and he talkin game
Thinkin we one on one but we not the same
Listen boo I gotta let you down greasy
It takes a man to lay a lady down easy
I don't think you got what it takes to set me straight
And make me shake, I'm sorry but this was a mistake

[Chorus]

(feat. Teflon)

A lot of niggaz talkin reckless
But if you wasn't from the hood you wouldn't understand what it is
Y'knahmsayin? We gon' clear it up right now
A lot of reckless talk out there
I'ma let y'all know my Family in tact
My whole Family in tact
My First Family in tact... for life (Marxmen!)

[Teflon]
Yo! You ever look into the eyes of the Grim Reaper?
Watch a man die when the shots fly and the shit heat up?
You in deep but, it's too late to back out
And now it's like your whole life is under a black cloud
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
And you always swore before you wasn't scared to die
But take a look in your eyes, and see the fear in 'em
You know them niggaz comin they came here to get him
And they ain't playin with him, they aim and spittin
Give him a closed casket, they plain sicker than Ol' Bastard
If only he can go backwards, to the days
And change when he used to throw those ratchets in nigga's face
Stole packages, from nigga's place of business
When they was tryin to make a livin, they ain't forgive him
And niggaz stay forgettin, so as soon as he came home
From state prison niggaz came and hit him

[Chorus]
(Suicide, it's a suicide)
When you don't know who to try cause, even you could die cause
(Suicide, it's a suicide)
Gotta rely on your wits, can't get caught up in the mix kid
(Suicide) Right or left, choose a side
Life or death, you might be the next dude to die (Marxmen, Marxmen)
What's your next step? I'll let you decide
(Suicide... Marxmen)

[Teflon]
Yo, it was a chick named Dawn, she used to get it on
Honey had niggaz slippin money up in her thong
At the strip club givin dubs, 20 a song
And if the price was right she might come with him home
She was fuckin one of the customers, Asam Allah
Dude was a fool, used to walk with her under the arm
Used to take her to Jamaica, lay with her under the palm
Treat her like a queen, really all he was was a pawn
She only seen him as John, he ain't mean nothin to her
She was just leadin him on, he just feedin into the con
All along, and he felt that that was real and nobody could try it
She came home and gave homes the virus
She got nice, can't turn a ho to a housewife
And he stabbin it raw dog, gamblin without dice
Now he ready to snuff out her life
Cause the AIDS results back, they ain't come out right

[Chorus]

[Teflon]
They used to meet up every night, at the gamblin spot
After all the block business was finished of scramblin rock
They'll meet up at the spot, get a couple of drinks
All the fly cars in Bronx pullin up in they mix
Lock the door, buy the bar out, this is our house
Everybody's laughin, there's cash in large amounts
They tappin glasses, toutin it's a family thing
Catch a case won't nobody in the family sing
That's what they think, all along they all was wrong
It was a dude with a device strapped to him recordin
Every convo that they had, where they sellin, where they scorin
Dude got knocked before but said he got off with a warnin
And they ain't get the message 'til the next mornin
When detectives stormed in the door, arrest 'em and took 'em all in
Now what they wanna know is who put the call in
Toss him off the bridge and turn his kids to orphans

(Marxmen!)

(feat. Wyclef Jean)

[27 second concert skit to open]

[Billy Danze] MOTHERFUCKER!
[Wyclef Jean] Watch out for de hip-hop cops, AYYYYYYYYY!
[Wyclef Jean] Watch out for de hip-hop cops, AYYYYYYYYY!
[Wyclef Jean] Watch out for de hip-hop cops, AYY
[Wyclef Jean] I was walkin down Flatbush AVVVVVE

[Chorus: all together]
Police in helicopters, dem a searchin for de gangsters
Policeman in the streets, dem a search for dem toolies
Stick up kids in the 'Ville, dem a run around with blue steel
[Lil' Fame (Wyclef)]
But if you continue to fuck with my hood
We gon' burn down the precinct (burn down the precinct)
If you continue to fuck with my hood

[Lil' Fame]
We gon'... we gon' (burn down the precinct)
Tear this whole... motherfuckin city apart
From the suburbs to the gritties blocks
Stop that ol' Bloomberg, bullshit
Impeach the President, this is our residence
So; people people, Mo. People
Bring yo' niggaz bring yo' hammers bring yo' ammo
Guard yo' family my nigga! Uh uh, this shit is crazy
Fuck Private Ryan, yo' hood don't shame me
Uhh, burn them motherfuckers 'til then
Ashes to ashes, you bastards
(Look at these assholes) Up in the wrong hood again
(They just don't learn) Stuck in the wrong hood again
(Yo' ass gon' burn) You lil' young-ass copper!
You ain't heard? Niggaz walk around here with choppers
Take yo' ass on back to St. Elsewhere
They got, all the narcotics that you want, over there

[Chorus]

[Billy Danze]
Excuse me Mr. Officer; let me see yo' hands
Yo' license, yo' insurance, yo' registrations
It seems we havin miscommunications
Like it ain't enough bullshit I'm facin
Besides you a rookie, it'll be more than a pleasure to book me
A killer on the block with a glock never shook me
And you won't search me unless I tell you you could
This ain't One Police Plaza you lil' faggot, this the hood
Now don't act up, cause if you act up
I'ma act up, and you gon' need a lil' backup
You make me wanna roll up, to Dunkin' Donuts
With a AR-15 and take it to the extreme
And steam through the motherfuckin glass
And put a DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DENT IN YOUR BADGE
You fuckin fag! Keep snoozin as you walkin the beat
It's like dancin with the devil
In the ghetto we got metal police

[Chorus: first line only]

[Wyclef Jean]
For the hip-hop cops
They said I changed, ever since I got the wealth
I ain't changed, it's just hard battlin myself
UHH, gyeah, I'm with them kids from Brownsville
If your chain is heavy deep, man they so f'real
Trust me - AYYYY - I was raised in the ghetto
It gets spooky at night, I saw fiends talkin to they shadows
Things done changed now I live in the meadows
Cribs so big when I speak you can hear a echo
But vanity is vanity (AY!) life in the Hamptons
My F-1 McLaren can't fit in my {?}
Smoke so much I can't get high no more
I drink so much I can't get drunk no more
What'chu know about my stress Mr. Officer, officer?
What'chu know about my stress Mr. [WOOP WOOP]
He told me he'd let me go if I'd play some
Jimi Hendrix electric guitar, AYYYYYYYYY!

(feat. Ol' Dirty Bastard)

{Marxmen.. Cinema}

[Intro: DJ Premier (ODB samples)]
Rest in peace, Ol' Dirty
"See my name is the ODB"
"The-the-the-the-the Ol' Dirty Bastard"
"Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang"
"Roc-a-Fella, Roc-a-Fella, Roc-a-Fella, Roc-a-Fella"
"Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang"

[Chorus x2: Ol' Dirty Bastard w/ samples cut]
As I pooooooooooop, shotttttttttttttttttts
As I po-a-oooooop, shotttttttttttttttttts

[Ol' Dirty Bastard]
Eighty-six was the year that it started
Crack hit the states, and my hood got to poppin
Back then, you had to catch it with narcotics
Without a doubt, Brooklyn had the hardest projects
Nowadays, if a nigga say you got it
You'd be sittin in the county with like 3 or 4 charges
Young I started, but I had a talent
To get this crack cooked, cause I took it as a challenge
So older niggaz gave me much as I can handle
Copped the Eagle, started jackin with the green New Balance shit
I'm feelin clean, I was only thirteen
With the heavy starch, on my Bugle Boy Jeans
My name spelled out on my four finger ring
It was Dirt then, cause McGirt you ain't seen

"The Ol' Dirty Bastard"
"Rollin...."

[Chorus: repeat x2 w/ more samples scratched in]

[Ol' Dirty Bastard]
Toe to toe, I scrapped with the best
If I spit ten rhymes, nigga nine gon' connect

[Lil' Fame] + (Ol' Dirty)
Crime time, one-seven-one-eight Marxmen
Chill Dirty I got this (Tell 'em who the fuck Iiii BE!)
F-I, Z, Z-Y
Famesta bitch; duke you ain't heard, you fuckin with
Weird Al Yankovich, Brook-nam bangers
See y'all niggaz still boppin to bullshit, that ain't the shit
Shame on a nigga that tried to run game on a nigga
Then, tuck in his chain on a nigga
I thought you used to pop that thang thang on a nigga
And air blocks out like bang bang on a nigga
You pussy! Fuck the shit you talkin duke
Cause everybody can smell it when yo' punk ass walkin duke
Get it right, it's the Ol' Dirty Bastard
With them old dirty bastards, from Brownsville (motherfucker)

"Tell 'em who the fuck I be..."
"The ODB"
"Tell 'em who the fuck I be..."
"The-the-the Ol' Dirty Bastard"

[Chorus: repeat x2 w/ more samples scratched in]

"Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang"
"Roc-a-Fella, Roc-a-Fella, Roc-a-Fella, Roc-a-Fella"
"Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang"
"See my name is the ODB"

[Chorus: repeat to fade w/ more samples scratched in]

I'm only fuckin wit'cha
I ain't rockin f'real, I'm only fuckin wit'cha
I'm only fuckin wit'chu
I be fuckin wit'chu

[Chorus: M.O.P.]
Yeah - you busy followin them other niggaz
We - keep it banned from TV
Yeahhhhhhh - party like a rock star
Oh, yeah - party like a rock star
Yeah - you busy followin these other niggaz
We - keep it banned from TV
Yeahhhhhhh - party like a rock star
Yeah yeah - party like a rock star

[Lil' Fame]
Yo, fuck a bitch cause I ain't him
(It's the L-I-L, F-A-M-E)
And, fuck yo' clique cause we ain't them
(We the, Mo P's, we the, O.G.'s, we the)
Straight outta Brooklyn stompin
Homey you heard? (BROOKLYN STOMPIN)
I'm in the club like (WHAT) I'm with my niggaz like (WHAT)
Homey we thug like (WHAT) clutchin them triggers like (WHAT)
Homey you're nothin like a pimp (WHAT HUH?)
Homey you more like a chimp (GANGSTA!)
We get guerilla on nigga (GANGSTA!)
Uh, I'ma get my killer on nigga
(Somebody talk to him) cause he gettin carried away
(But he gon' {fuck} around) and get carried away (UH-HUH)
Homey we thug like (WHAT) I'm with my goons like (WHAT)
Homey we thug like (WHAT) my whole platoon's like (WHAT)

[Chorus: w/ variations]

[Billy Danze]
(Yeah) One thing about you doubted you
Say you don't love it but you'll never do nothin with it
(WHO DAT?) Frank Danze
It's all spring and to this boss thing I'm commited
(Yeah) They love the way I do it
Bumpin rap rock music out the Buick, all day
And y'all say, what a way to go tiff
Easy I get greasy with this four-fifth
(SLUM) A little more from me (SLUM) a little harder for me
All star starter homey, like it's the Carter homey
(Yeah) Make sure you notice the family's focused
And we get you open with a passion
HOW YOU FEELIN FAME? (huh) HOW YOU FEELIN BILL? (hood)
HOW THE FAMILY DOIN? Good, thanks for askin
We still mashin (BEE KAYYYY)
All God damn day, witness the fatal attraction

[Chorus: w/ variations]

[x2]
ROCK, c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon
ROCK yeah c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon

[Chorus: w/ variations]

[x2]
ROCK, c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon
ROCK yeah c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon, get on, c'mon

[7 second skit to open]

[Chorus: Lil' Fame]
I'm a G boy, standin in my G boy stance
Don't get it fucked up, I'm a grown-ass man
Same game nuttin changed we gon' do it like we used ta
Fo' my niggaz that can relate, Mo. P salute ya
SALUTE! Let's tear down the pretty shit
Build up the nigga shit for our kind of niggaz
Dem niggaz that'll slap the shit outta ya, clap the shit outta ya
Here's to you my nigga we proud of ya

[Billy Danze]
Let's get it goin (there you go, Billy Danze) Fizzy Wo'
(Good to see you still bangin) Ho we ain't gon' leave you hangin
I don't know what you've been saggin on, you've been braggin money on
But time's up (that's fucked up) nigga get gone
We don't cruise (on 'em) when we move (on 'em)
Keep it rugged never smooth (on 'em) drop jewels (on 'em) grip tools (on 'em)
And braise, everyone of these Y.G.'s
Wannabe Mo. P's, claimin they O.G.'s
IF Y'ALL DON'T GET BACK, you gon' get yo' ass put on chill
Get a drawer filled and catch a raw deal
Since money make your world go 'round, that's true
And money make you do the dumb shit that you do
(WHO WANT TWO?) The fuck is wrong wit'chu?
How could you switch your character and turn your back on your crew?
Weak niggaz will fall, whack niggaz will fail
Live niggaz prevail, YES YES Y'ALL

[Chorus: Billy Danze instead of Lil' Fame]

[Lil' Fame - overlapping Chorus]
I spit that old school shit like Lakim Shabazz; this is not a facade
It's the baby boy of Leon and Mrs. Lynette Barnard
My other half, the illest voice of hip-hop today
IT'S the baby boy of Big Frank and Mrs. Hattie May
(OKAY!) You fuckin with the real motherfuckers
(OKAY!) Live from Capitol Hill motherfucker
(CROOKLYN!) Crime town, one-seven-one-eight
Home of the one-eight-seven BITCH, who want my John Hancock?
I ain't talkin no autograph written
Fuck a autograph I'm handin out auto ass whuppins
Y'all niggaz know better than to try that ol' bullshit from Def Jam Vendetta
Run on up like {?} got you buff and get fucked the fuck on up! Nigga
It's a rudebwoy awakening
M.O.P., Fizzy-yoski-Woski, holla at me nigga!

[Chorus: Billy Danze instead of Lil' Fame]

[Lil' Fame]
Aiyyo it's William and Womack y'all talk about throwbacks
Me and the homey go back like {?} nigga
Yeah, nigga hold that, you know we gon' promote that
Come back for the hood in the hooptie nigga

[Billy Danze]
Y'all can't control that, you niggaz is so whack
Your rugged rap, feels like (A FLOOZY NIGGA)
You niggaz need to know that, me and the homey run rap
You know where the show at come (SHOOT ME NIGGA)

[unknown]
Salute me nigga! (Salute) It's me
Big Baby Boogie rookie from M.O.P. (squeeze)
What it's gon' be, I'll stomp, you flinch
The AK (ay) Shareetha Lynch, I'm givin you a hint
To get it'll take a little sense
I'll come through the illest part of town when I'm bent
And have no fear, you know (SHE) O (G)
You and your homies can hold these!

[Chorus]

(feat. M.O.P.)

[Lil Fame] hey hey hey hey hey
[Afu-Ra] I don't want to be a rap dude no more
[Billy Danze] Nigga!

[Lil Fame]
Yo come back with that shit pause your argue lent
G's bang it out homeboy fuck the argument
Still on top of my game holding the fork
But the situation got me inpatient start blowing your torch
The fizzy move, the fizzy move
At fizzy (home) four O, no doubt
Cus I am a BK villain
And this year I 'm passing out brass knuckle ass wiping
Ten years in this bitch, fuck it, Switch speeds
I been spitting this venom since the age of fifteen
But you wanna be the Jordan of rap
An I' be catch you on the rebound slam dunk two in your back
You aint shit, never was shit, never gone be shit
I'm the cold Medina DP shit, AH (AH)
Authentic true blue believe it ill be back for the 2 o's 2

[Chorus 1]
[Scratching] Bone crushing, bone breaking
Now what you rock for
We in the making you move like is a dead zone
Steady.[Scratching] causing damage.
Now what you stop for
We hit you off for the brain that what we came for

[Afu-Ra]
You see I' m faster than you faster than anybody
Fast like a hottie doing a buck sixty on the Bacadi
You couldn't spare my rage F the Porsche-a
You know I squash ya'
Daddy yo I'm hotter than Chinese chilly sauce mixed with musavie
I'm sick in the head invisible fleds
I'm shooting the stars I'm blacking the whites to blues
That right yeah
I'm sickening with the kung fu
More complex then mixo flicks or were I yank a bitch
Supposing a remix stick with some sick shit
Pistachio absolute Tanqueray mix with tequila
I'm instillina a willina and killing ya' (killing ya')
Mother sucking fire breathing Godzilla
Ayo this party right here is straight fire, (FIYAHH)
Life Force, M.O.P we take it higher
(Scratching) Bone (Scratching) crushing
(Scratching) Bone (Scratching) breaking

[Chorus 2]
[Scratching] Bone crushing, bone breaking
Now who do you rock for
We in the making you moves that's why came for
Steady.(Scratching) causing damage.
Now what you stop for
We stimulating the brain thats why we came for

[Scratching] Bone crushing, bone breaking
Now what you rock for
We in the making you move like is a dead zone
Steady.(Scratching) causing damage.
Now what you stop for
We hit you off for the brain that what we came for

[Billy Danze]
Let's pop it off (yes sir who that is?)
William Danze one of the illest ever
That spit sparks with from both hands
I learn these criminal ways
Were criminals blaze at everything above waistline
You take mine you aint that bad you must be mad
You fucking faggot got mixed up with another dude
May peace and blessings be upon you
How you doing brother do, No
Look if I was in a position of giving us faith (Listen)
Osama Bin Laden would have been shot in his face (Missing)
Like every life he destroy in the World Trade
I aint got no patients for the faggot less great
Couldn't wait to hit the wake, with an O.G staff
Trained to shake'em, take'em and break'em in half
Using heavy caliber weapons for clearing the path
The same as we do in the ave nigga
Look (Look) is the legendary M.O.Piggidy back
Murdering tracks with Afu-Rigidy black

[Sratching]
[Chorus 1]
[Chorus 2]
[x2]