Running Your Mouth

Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? 1, 2, 3, and... Now they say you ain't never suppose to envy no man Can't tell that to a dingy old man Who see a young nigga getting plently dough man Icy Audemar, Hendy gold band With a mean girl like Lindsay Lohan That's why I keep the 9 in the Bentley door pan Trust it's gon' bust you roll on us Know it's gon' blow for my dough Why would you try with that guy Scene told you he keep it G We can bang like the two chains on my neck The hood is Iraq I'm Hussein in the 'jects The coupe's up take the new Lame for a sec 12" up, new cane in the deck nigga Right now with a squeezer and a coozie And I'm goin out like Keyshia with the uzi [Chorus] They talk about it, we all about it They making plans, we sit and counting Our cheddar stack it's just like a mountain You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth She want's to ride, and she's trying to hide it I'm cool as ever, she's too excited Her man look like, he want to fight But he ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth Fuck around and feel the fury of a high nigga When I get busy throw your hands in the sky nigga I got the illest of the ill mentality, niggas be grabbing me Knowing that they'd rather be stabbing me All up in my back trying to take my track When I used to sell crack I ain't had problems like that Street rules, watch your pockets and your jewels A nigga front, throw the gat to the fool Necks wanna move but's getting blasted Streets to a flows from the ill ghetto bastard As I release masterpieces like adhesive Stuck to your ass, like tissue when your wiping fast MC's have a hard time believing I mark with death, hard to kill like Steven When Jake come I'm leaving, the black man's motto You got a better chance playing lotto What you want nigga? [Chorus] Ah, Yo Now watch me dip-dip-di-dive all over the beat Now watch me drip-drip-dri-di all over the street The general consensus is you'll be the dominating fleet Bitch raw, and let me continue to bring the heat You know who been the kings of the block, the kings of the drops The kings of the crap music and the kings of the cross Niggas fire then drop shit like the purest of powder That's why most of these niggas little song be sounding like ours Couple years ago, niggas probably thought I was dying Now same niggas are idolizing put our face in the shrine Yeah I took a little time to cook and show you what's really hot How the fuck any of you niggas think you feeling my spot Why you niggas getting mad at us, we shit on your floors All in your house nigga, our strategies is different from yours Listen, you come you can do it while I continue to preach Snoop, fam, bigger Bust of the stand if you can't reach [Chorus] Uhhh, uhhh Fox then B.I.G. Who fucking with Fox, who want it with I Bust a shot for me and Big from the villfredo sky Got my Joan Fross shit on, hop off my dick Canary bangle-round I ain't gon' 20 carrots on this bitch Pull up the Phantom, show 'em how we switch From the Bentley blinds spur kill 'em with the six Bed-Stuy what up y'all, what up with your girl How she leave dude broke tell them boys on work I'm in the G5 Jedi, Brooklyn what's your chrome 'Cause that niggas lying home if the tutti with the dead-eye My nigga Neck got hit up in his truck And no Stranel ain't the same since Homo got touched Nasty with the pistol, nasty with the clit See I'm a beast with it, fucking 'til I'm crippled Ill nuns squeezing the lhama Bog roll dutty, Fox and Poppa Run for your gun you suckers B.I.G. I'm a get them motherfuckers Don't you worry about a thing, bang-bang-boogie I got a few chickens that's gon' work that noggie In the lack with a sack go and put it on the mat What it do nephew (Where Brooklyn at?) Uh, turning it out, run in your house Gun in your mouth, motherfucker quit running your mouth [Chorus] What you really want from a nigga?...