Brooklyn Brawl Songtext
von Prop Dylan
Brooklyn Brawl Songtext
Hey yo ladies, a cargo ball
Fingers to keep her pointing ′em
The jealousy and greed
Please, you're Nickelodeon′s hot
Flip a coin and jump up to see the podium
It's like an opium trip
Woah my spit is poisonous
Born and bred in the city of chimney smoke clouds
So no god, I got down to scribble notes
I'm also trip her dosage
Different strokes for different folks
Solidify the inner growth
You apply holes to my lung
′Cause my south-six is golden like shoulder the brawn
We got the pros in the corn
All this for all nought, it′s all over before long
Word is born, though it was yet inadequate
We'll label, let you know
Stop playing the devil′s advocate
Before and after shit, it's so wavy
It′s like these streets are directed by Scorsese
All me, by all means necessary
Edged in stone if you walk these cemetaries
Flesh and bone, the dirt of a jail
So every sinning is felt like you're wedded in brown
Brooklyn brawl and the boiling like cooking oil
It′s chess has taking your brooks
To lay 'em where the crooks is royal
Ain't cooking to spoil meat
But loyal to the bodega
The forties right in tomatoes
Some cappin′ in Las Vegas
The product of dope dealers
Pocket of dro′, nothing my fro'
I start to tear with the fort I smoke the clear
I′ve got a unity of pepper spray
Step away, step at a time
You lames getting run over by a Chevrolet
Dead man tell no tales
But that's not what the dead don′t say
They say run, let them fight another day
Pay attention 'cause they whisper in from heaven′s gate
Providing you with wisdom and advice before you let it stray
Find a better way
Why you always thinking that it must be rhyming
This shit is bootleg, they call it knocky times
Let us pray, let's split it two ways with Bob Dylan
The two was already your 'cause we top billing
When we say throw your hands
Just protect yo′ face
Keep that guard up, I ain′t planning to be a slept-on case
'Cause fathers to the style, I respect those greats
Those who starving on us now, like they left no trace
My name ring bells, hit the hustlers of Charleton
If I targeted the mock, you wouldn′t argue my accomplishments
Bullets that they awfully dodging like Jacky Robinson
Why we keep 'em coming back for more like case Solomon
Hit ′em up, hit 'em hard, where your cool at?
Why like on us like a news pack
Get ′em down to the south, so boom back
Like we're bringing '92 back
Get ′em up, get ′em high, where your crew at?
Why like on us like a douchebag
Get 'em down to the south, so boom back
Like we′re bringing '92 back
Fingers to keep her pointing ′em
The jealousy and greed
Please, you're Nickelodeon′s hot
Flip a coin and jump up to see the podium
It's like an opium trip
Woah my spit is poisonous
Born and bred in the city of chimney smoke clouds
So no god, I got down to scribble notes
I'm also trip her dosage
Different strokes for different folks
Solidify the inner growth
You apply holes to my lung
′Cause my south-six is golden like shoulder the brawn
We got the pros in the corn
All this for all nought, it′s all over before long
Word is born, though it was yet inadequate
We'll label, let you know
Stop playing the devil′s advocate
Before and after shit, it's so wavy
It′s like these streets are directed by Scorsese
All me, by all means necessary
Edged in stone if you walk these cemetaries
Flesh and bone, the dirt of a jail
So every sinning is felt like you're wedded in brown
Brooklyn brawl and the boiling like cooking oil
It′s chess has taking your brooks
To lay 'em where the crooks is royal
Ain't cooking to spoil meat
But loyal to the bodega
The forties right in tomatoes
Some cappin′ in Las Vegas
The product of dope dealers
Pocket of dro′, nothing my fro'
I start to tear with the fort I smoke the clear
I′ve got a unity of pepper spray
Step away, step at a time
You lames getting run over by a Chevrolet
Dead man tell no tales
But that's not what the dead don′t say
They say run, let them fight another day
Pay attention 'cause they whisper in from heaven′s gate
Providing you with wisdom and advice before you let it stray
Find a better way
Why you always thinking that it must be rhyming
This shit is bootleg, they call it knocky times
Let us pray, let's split it two ways with Bob Dylan
The two was already your 'cause we top billing
When we say throw your hands
Just protect yo′ face
Keep that guard up, I ain′t planning to be a slept-on case
'Cause fathers to the style, I respect those greats
Those who starving on us now, like they left no trace
My name ring bells, hit the hustlers of Charleton
If I targeted the mock, you wouldn′t argue my accomplishments
Bullets that they awfully dodging like Jacky Robinson
Why we keep 'em coming back for more like case Solomon
Hit ′em up, hit 'em hard, where your cool at?
Why like on us like a news pack
Get ′em down to the south, so boom back
Like we're bringing '92 back
Get ′em up, get ′em high, where your crew at?
Why like on us like a douchebag
Get 'em down to the south, so boom back
Like we′re bringing '92 back
Writer(s): Logophobia, Talib Kweli Greene Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
