4 Alarm Blaze
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featuring Teflon and Jay Z Lil' Fame: Seventy five Raised on a strip called here brotha hill Where guns pop and cops get killed This is the place where paranoya Destroyin' niggas cash cases mo' try to flash they lawyers We're losin' it Four fives and knives we be movin' wit Caught up in the things that the street game confused you wit We're provin' it Let it be known if retaliation Home skillet - it's on That rap nigga bust a cap nigga flat nigga Open up your back nigga Rosewood black nigga First family gone brawl It's president's resident, and I'm the first dog You know the M.O.P status In the history of crime and rap we some the baddest Word to the mommy Any fool try me Get hit wit the Llama F*ck cuminana Chorus - Teflon and Lil' Fame: 2X It's a 4 alarm blaze Everybody post up next to the stage Come on You're all welcome to hell's roadway First family style Buck ass wild What ya say Billy Danze: Get ya man on the jack soldier Grip your mac soldier FIRST FAMILY We're back soldier And we have swam through the Brownsville sewers The last on the line of our kind CRIME DO'ERS Burkowitz MOB STYLE Spit fire from my hammer like I wasn't God's child Crucify me - but don't deny me Or get slit bitch you couldn't slip nothin' by me Try me and I'll pop shots like I'm supposed to I'm from the field where the covers are unnoticable I've noticed a few niggas wantin' my head Used my smarts and my secret all are firin' lead (Fire ya lead) With all intentions of droppin' a body I'm usually nervous so I'm flinchin' when I enter the party THE BROWNSVILLE NECTAR That bullshit Just when you thought it was safe I flipped and hit â??em wit more shit Chorus 2X: Teflon: Introducin' the best kept secret It's no sweet shit I sleep wit green beret Blaze enemies frequent I speak wit authority (Black) Perhaps through four to be Cap quarterly blazed till it's quiet and orderly The gunsmoke make son soak The smoke run through the barrel until the gun choke Raised cold-hearted and deadly Survive wit a nickel-plated tool and jewels old-timer done fed me Keep my grip steady Squeeze till they drop off Make sure all other guns are popped off as heavy Blowin some high-tech shit Through your projects Makin' whatever was in my way easy to di-tect I wrecks guys Over money gone Saratoga son be in a Columbian necktie We don't respects by Half-ass niggas Blast niggas Gas niggas who won't blast The sect die All: 2X Just when you thought it was safe The mashed out posse hit you off wit another taste Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh ) Uh (Uh) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Jay-Z: Yeah, uh-huh, what the f*ck Two asked quick for bastards to step to Leave wounds too drastic for rescue When I rock jewels it ain't to impress you What the f*ck niggas commentin on my shit fo' I'm real - how you think I got rich ho? Pack steel - ain't afraid to let a clip go I got enough paper to get low Come back when the shit blow over get the dough over Huh wit the Rover snatch the gat from the clip holder Rip through ya shoulder bitch it's Jay-hovah I'm too right wit it, too tight wit it You light witted but if you're feel ya nice nigga spit it Who am I? JAY-Z motherfucker Do or die IN BROWNSVILLE motherfucker Blocka, rocka, M.O.P collabo Front on us and gats blow ya know? Chorus: 2X motherfucker
Written by: FRANK SULLIVAN, LAWRENCE ELLIOTT, JIM PETERIK, JAMAL GRINNAGE, ERIC MURRAY, LYNWOOD STERLING, SHAWN CARTER, SEAN CARTER, FRANKIE M., III SULLIVAN, JAMES M. PETERIK, JAMAL GERARD GRINNAGE
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