Brooklyn Stylelaid Out Lyrics

Brooklyn Stylelaid Out lyrics

featuring Scoob

Chorus: Big Daddy Kane

Come on y'all and feel the
groove
Get on down and make your move
Welcome to the funkiest
Brooklyn
style, laid out like this

Chorus

[Big Daddy Kane]
I kicks the
flavor good, to represent the neighborhood
where I come from, and that's the
place of Brooklyn
where the grimies are born and bred
And bullets are like
eyeballs, two to the head

[Scoob]
Well is it Brownsville? Time to
represent for the map
where the peeps smoke blunts and like to wear mad gold
caps
The party addict about to explode
From the 1-1-2, the double-3 ill
zip code

[Big Daddy Kane]
Parlayin on the corner, drinkin 40's
shootin cee-lo
It's a Brooklyn thing, aight? You know our steelo
And for
those who just don't know how it go
Play like a substitute teacher and ACT
like you know

[Scoob]
So yo, who wanna set it? You better kick your
best G
You and your whole entourage couldn't test me
I represent for the
fo' main
And if you're not a booty bandit, then niggaz can't
hang

Chorus

[Big Daddy Kane]
Now, let's get straight down to
the point
I represent for this Brooklyn joint, baby pah, where we're takin
it to
Makin a few dollars don't mean you gotta forget
where you come from
and try to be someone, that you're really not
and front with what you
got
You're gonna be looked at as a black man still so keep it real
What
type of mission can I say you on?
Because you musta done changed to some
Grey Poupon, heh
I'm really happy to see you blew up
But always remember
my man you grew up
in the PJ's all your life, in a broken home
(Scoob:
Well alright now)
Up in the PJ's all your life, keepin it strong, WHAT!
I
be the Louis Ave livin, live long lastin lover
Bonafied black brother, word
to the mother
Skilled at trades at hand with those who made
the man with
support and always stayed a fan
My dialectic style is perfected
in ways
you can't imagine rap bein accepted
Funk'll slam like a doper jam,
pops
I'm takin mine like taxes with Uncle Sam
So check out the asiatic
type of flow
like water in the Nile, but it's Brooklyn
style

Chorus

[Scoob]
Yo, this is Big Scoob, no practice
I'm
flippin on niggaz like little kids on that mattress
You know my style, Baby
Pah from the PJ's
My lyrics so dope, they too fat for local DJ's
So hear
me out, no doubt, no need for screamin
My boys in the back, clockin your
jewels, and they scheamin
Why did they step to me, I hit em, bow,
bu-dow
Knocked out his fronts cause the kid was mad fragile
No need for
beef chief I'm rollin mad deep
So pick up your teeth, I got him shakin like
a leaf
Not tryin to scare you, I just wanna aware you
I bet you won't
even look at my face (WHAT WHAT WHAT) I dare you
Yo nigga please, yo I'm
nice with these
while you're guardin your grill, I'll be beatin up your
kidneys
Me and my boys with the fat tec 9's
with my joint cocked back, in
case a punk tried to take mines
Where I'm from there's no need for
hesitation
We cock and squeeze, now where's the doctor for this
patient?
He's drippin blood and now he's down to his last breath
But he
won't make it, cause he knows that my joint is def
The ill, type of Brooklyn
artist
who rocks the har-dest, regard-less
who you know and where you're
from I pull your file
(How?) Brooklyn style

Chorus