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Brooklyn Stand Up Lyrics - Artist : Papoose
Yeah, Papoose
March to the Thugacation soldiers Brooklyn, New York Let's go, Thuga, Thuga, C'mon 'Cause when the block start clickin' The fiends smokin' and sniffin' And the guns get to spittin' away (Yeah!) Stick up kids keep stickin' From New Lots to Pitkin Brownsville, stand up What it do, dude, what We was doin' the dyin' When them dudes wasn't doin' a thing In Crown Heights, chain hang East New York, same thing Bed-Stuy, stand up 'Cause if You got grams and I got grams, let's put our Grams together and lock these grams If we can't eat together, then you ain't my man So when you see me in the streets, don't shake my hand, if You got guns and I got guns, let's put our Guns together and lock this, son You don't want to roll with me I'mma pop you, son If you ain't with me, you against me, I don't bite my tongue I get it gully, bet you like that, huh Where the weed, nigga light that up Ayo, I fight the night shifts 'till I knock out mornings Used to jump crackheads when the block got boring Come to your hood and make it hot, 'cause I got mine scorching I walk around with no ID, I got warrants The cab driver dropped me off, with my mouth yawnin' He said the cab was seven dollars, but I hopped out on him Tried to ask me for his bread, so I wild' out on him 'Caught him with a two-piece, left him knocked out snorin' Niggas takin' this for granted, we want [?] He don't want to make enemies, he want friends Put the gun in his mouth, yeah it's me again Leave your tongue hangin' out like beat up Timbs What type of situation did you leave us in? If you can't write fire, give me your pen You come from a hood, that we re-up in BK, that's the borough niggas G'd up in You better watch, how you pull your V up, slim Keep the window low enough, so I can see your chin Who the fuck hood you think your tryin' to creep up in? If the glass low enough to stick the Nina in I'mma throw the drop on you and your three-butt-mens If you ain't creepin' on me, keep your seat up then Why you keep actin' like you got the brains of prophet? Pluck y'all niggas and rip you lames out the socket Lil nigga, you a faggot who came out the closet Hold you by your ankles and shake your change out your pockets Go the Heckler |
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