Lyrics:
pimpin' gon' die
Twelve piece with a hundred hoes by my side
I'm down with that nigga 50 like I down with blue
Fuck cuz, nah nigga, motherfuck you
pimpin' gon' die
Twelve piece with a hundred hoes by my side
I'm down with that nigga 50 like I down with blue
Fuck cuz, nah nigga, motherfuck you
sharp
Trace my bloodline to the Bronx, my grandparents Susan Brawley and John Niels side by side, in St. Raymond's Cemetery where their graves are
Don't
provoke, just chill and roll a smoke
It ain't no joke I know you recognize the sound
It's diggety das efx and this is how we gettin down
Here it is etc
forty five
Er...excuse me, what do I do now?
Man be cool..gotta get down and have a rap.
I beg yer pardon? I think I'll do a talking bit instead!
She
I can't catch no man
Hangin' out at a discotheque
But I believe in the boogie
Oh, but the boogie don't believe in me
Well, I got my way
since they drove down my block carrying Biggie's urn
From up the block, 'cross the street by the store
When my man was put in position, told him peep
Kazza
Simba, I'm surprised to see you
Lurking, lurking, tryna find Dory
Yuck a man down, bare shaving
Talk on private stories, catch him in public
the bronx so I'll X you out
Truth be told I ain't saying nothing that I ain't live so you bets believe I walk it out
Take it easy man I'm the pita man up up
in a well, I can't get out
"In Trouble"
I'm trapped, for real
"When you're down.. in trouble"
I'm tellin' you
"In Trouble"
Nobody gon' be
hurt if you come from out of town
But down by lord that's word
Fantastic
Show stoppin emcees
Yeah here streets is move by glocks in whos pocket
But
feel Bran Nubian
Instantly.
Boogie Down
And check this Production.
Gimme them lips
They look good for suction.
She said, "Sweet tease
Cool with
party
Put down your drinks
And they'll blow your nose off like the fucking Sphinx
Catch you by surprise around sunrise
When I go to sleep I sleep with
Never snitch, never send a nigga to jail
I'd rather find him by a boat doing the dead man's float
We gangsters, real gangsters B
Gun in the green room up
Never snitch, never send a nigga to jail
I'd rather find him by a boat doing the dead man's float
We gangsters, real gangsters B
Gun in the green room up
Party people, party people, do you wanna get funky?
Get down, get down, you know
Up jump the boogie, so I've jumped up with it
We smoke weed by
Be nice to have a little breeze.
Breeze on by fuck the cops.
Do we have the cash? We don't have to talk that, hey hey
Get the fuck outta here with
gettin' deep
In gucci and armani
Gator boots and boogie suits
With the button from versace
Diamond down is a must
And a considerable part of our gear from
hats leaning
Bag full of money and a chick
That's down to ride for him
That's all a brother really needs
In this life of sin
I stepped out the Smart car
brown
Zone out, turn the lights off
Ant boogie, what up? Uh-huh
In the crib, with my wiz, getting my grown man on
Listening to classic soul, with
and punishment from the boogie down bronxter,
D'shawn the maniac street mobster.
[Chorus]
It's the f-I-n-e-double-s-e,
Don't play or stress me
Cause that
Ready and willin' and heavily breathin'
Anticipatin' the moment as we hopped on across Bronx
My man June was singin' along til Ikinelli tossed him
Ya know, aye, me and my man, Dogg
(tell 'em) , you know we just puttin' hoes in
They place, we pimpin' hoes (pimpin' hoes)
Laying hoes down (slamming
of the black man Noah
Radio DJ's, all around
Constantly tell me how they are down
To uplift Africa and unite black
Yet they fronted when I
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