Featuring: Joe Budden
Songwriter: Fabolous Joe Budden
[Intro: Joe Budden & Fabolous]
Show you how we do it (Brooklyn)
[Chorus 1: Fabolous]
F-A, I'ma let these [?] spray (Blaow)
B-O, hope your vest is [?]
L-O, yeah, run and tell po's
U-S, you fuckin' with [?], nigga
[Verse 1: Fabolous]
Who else you know make communities nervous
That get knocked for attempts and walk away with community service?
You can see why I got a deal
Look at my attorney, you can see why I got a pill
Look at my chain, you can see why I got the chills
Looked at the rims, hard to see why I got the wheels
And your money's as long as who?
Shorty, I got guns in my closets as long as you
This player's on the street
I'm either in some hottie or in somebody disc player on repeat
Now everybody gettin' sprayed
And if I take off his durag you'll understand why everybody gettin' braids
I keep the fiends noddin' in the street
And chicks between my lap looking like they noddin' to the beat
My team be in a stretch on skinnies
And we been down with takin' other people property before Treach and Vinnie
What I'ma front for? I'm still hot, still got
Niggas that'll bring it to your front door like Jill Scott
Please don't mind me, I'm 'posed to style
You lookin' at Brooklyn's pretty thug poster child
I rock the TechnoMarine
And mommy got me 'bout to wreck the [?] way she pecked on the weenier
Don't let me see ya be squealin'
I'll have strangers in your house and you'll know how Tamia be feelin'
Wasn't for this flow nigga like me'd be dealin'
Choppin' and baggin', scrappin' the plate
Now niggas tryna get me on every mixtape in the state
Plus I'm in the Benz with the headlights shaped like an eight
Hope I catch you young boys together
Y'all can share this clip and laid in one [?] together
I'm from Bedford-Stuy, f' with I
You and your girl'll be callin' 911 like y'all 'Clef and Blige, motherfucker
[Chorus 2: Joe Budden]
J-OE, Doug Jacob stay low
B-U, cock when I see
D-D, bleed when you see me
E-N, step again y'all end
[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Yo, [?] Joe [?] from the cracks
Run with thoroughbred vets, I don't be with the rats
Beef is beef, we can take it deeper than rap
I'm known to drive by, slumped in the seat with a gat
Heat to your back, y'all get played, leave it at that
With me that's not going down, no, but I keep in the bag
You the joker in the building, got beef with a Jack
Gettin' pumped for the bottom bunk, sleepin' with fags
Now I keep the gun tucked in my Leevy's, Joe propose to his 9
Cheat on that, marry my Mac 10 like T-Boz
Cats said they had [?] before the rap shit
Come around, they don't show face like closed caskets
Y'all wanna rap now 'bout tools and biscuits
Y'all authors write about it, some dudes done did it
Joe Budden, different from them other dudes that's frigid
I get around, like to travel, like to move my pivot
Like I had to break the news to you bitches
Tried to tell cats that beef is nothin' like abusive snitches
Pitched the raw, swift cat ditched the law
Turned around blue trial like crips in court
Joe brolic write deadly, paint pictures of doom
Clowns owe me money like I can't get in your room
I'll get to you soon, I'm not human, I wasn't born
No labour, no pushin', I just ripped through the womb
See, I'm tryna cop a few acres
Tryna cop more whips than car lots, more dubs than bootleggers
Chrome or black trigger, stack big as tap liquor, rap sicker
Joe Budden, AKA that nigga
Show you how we do it (Brooklyn)
[Chorus 1: Fabolous]
F-A, I'ma let these [?] spray (Blaow)
B-O, hope your vest is [?]
L-O, yeah, run and tell po's
U-S, you fuckin' with [?], nigga
[Verse 1: Fabolous]
Who else you know make communities nervous
That get knocked for attempts and walk away with community service?
You can see why I got a deal
Look at my attorney, you can see why I got a pill
Look at my chain, you can see why I got the chills
Looked at the rims, hard to see why I got the wheels
And your money's as long as who?
Shorty, I got guns in my closets as long as you
This player's on the street
I'm either in some hottie or in somebody disc player on repeat
Now everybody gettin' sprayed
And if I take off his durag you'll understand why everybody gettin' braids
I keep the fiends noddin' in the street
And chicks between my lap looking like they noddin' to the beat
My team be in a stretch on skinnies
And we been down with takin' other people property before Treach and Vinnie
What I'ma front for? I'm still hot, still got
Niggas that'll bring it to your front door like Jill Scott
Please don't mind me, I'm 'posed to style
You lookin' at Brooklyn's pretty thug poster child
I rock the TechnoMarine
And mommy got me 'bout to wreck the [?] way she pecked on the weenier
Don't let me see ya be squealin'
I'll have strangers in your house and you'll know how Tamia be feelin'
Wasn't for this flow nigga like me'd be dealin'
Choppin' and baggin', scrappin' the plate
Now niggas tryna get me on every mixtape in the state
Plus I'm in the Benz with the headlights shaped like an eight
Hope I catch you young boys together
Y'all can share this clip and laid in one [?] together
I'm from Bedford-Stuy, f' with I
You and your girl'll be callin' 911 like y'all 'Clef and Blige, motherfucker
[Chorus 2: Joe Budden]
J-OE, Doug Jacob stay low
B-U, cock when I see
D-D, bleed when you see me
E-N, step again y'all end
[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Yo, [?] Joe [?] from the cracks
Run with thoroughbred vets, I don't be with the rats
Beef is beef, we can take it deeper than rap
I'm known to drive by, slumped in the seat with a gat
Heat to your back, y'all get played, leave it at that
With me that's not going down, no, but I keep in the bag
You the joker in the building, got beef with a Jack
Gettin' pumped for the bottom bunk, sleepin' with fags
Now I keep the gun tucked in my Leevy's, Joe propose to his 9
Cheat on that, marry my Mac 10 like T-Boz
Cats said they had [?] before the rap shit
Come around, they don't show face like closed caskets
Y'all wanna rap now 'bout tools and biscuits
Y'all authors write about it, some dudes done did it
Joe Budden, different from them other dudes that's frigid
I get around, like to travel, like to move my pivot
Like I had to break the news to you bitches
Tried to tell cats that beef is nothin' like abusive snitches
Pitched the raw, swift cat ditched the law
Turned around blue trial like crips in court
Joe brolic write deadly, paint pictures of doom
Clowns owe me money like I can't get in your room
I'll get to you soon, I'm not human, I wasn't born
No labour, no pushin', I just ripped through the womb
See, I'm tryna cop a few acres
Tryna cop more whips than car lots, more dubs than bootleggers
Chrome or black trigger, stack big as tap liquor, rap sicker
Joe Budden, AKA that nigga
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