Brooklyn`s Finest Lyrics

Brooklyn`s Finest lyrics

Jay-Z] 

 Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ay Yo peep the style and the way the cops sweat us 

 The number one question is can the Feds get us 

 I got vendettas in dice games against ass betters  

 And niggas who pump wheels and drive Jettas, take that with ya 

  

 [Notorious B.I.G.] 

 Hit ya, back split ya, fuck fist fights and layin scuffles 

 Pillow case to your face, make the shell muffle 

 Shoot your daughter in the calf muscle 

 Fuck a tussle, nickel-plated  

 Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug related, most hate it 

  

 [Jay-Z] 

 Can't fade it, while ya'll pump willy, I run up and stunt silly 

 Scared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me 

 But on the contrilli, I packs the mack-milli  

 Squeezed off on him, let the paramedics breath all soft on him 

 What's ya name? 

  

 [Notorious B.I.G.] 

 Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra 

 Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet 

 Tryin to put 700's, they ain't made them yet 

 Rolex and bracelets is frostbit 

 Rings too, niggas round the way call me Igloo, Stick who?  

  

 Chorus: Jay-Z 

  

 What, what, what, Jay-Z, Big Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers 

 Brooklyn represent ya'll hit, ya fall 

 Ya crazy, think a little-bit of rhymes can play me 

 I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, your JV 

  

 (Jigga) Jay-Z 

  

 [Notorious B.I.G.] 

 Nigga baby, My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious 

 Delicious, Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches 

 From 62 gem stars, my moms dishes 

 Gram choppin, police van dockin, D's at me doors knockin 

  

 [Jay-Z] 

 Keep rockin, No more Mista Nice Guy 

 I twist ya shit the fuck back with the pistols  

 Blazin, hot like cajun, hotter than leaving holding work at the Days Inn 

 With New York plates outside, get up outta there, fuck the ride 

  

 [Notorious B.I.G.] 

 Keep ya hands high, shit gets steeper 

 Here comes the Grim Reaper 

 Frank Wright need the keys to your Integra 

 (That's right) 

 Chill homie, the bitch in the Shownies told me 

 Your holding more drugs than a pharmacy 

 You ain't harmin me, so pardon me  

 Pass the safe before I blaze the place and hit six shots just in case 

  

 Chorus 

  

 [Jay-Z] 

 Yeah, yeah, yeah, for nine six, the only MC with a flu 

 Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what your tryin to do 

 Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white heron 

 Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms 

 Stay out the way from heron 

 (Clear) gone 

  

 [Notoriuos B.I.G.] 

 Nea Gutter had two spots 

 The two for five dollar hits, the blue tops 

 Gotta go, Coolio mean it's gettin Too Hot 

 If Faith had twins, she'd probably have two Pac's 

 Get it, Tupac's 

  

 [Jay-Z] 

 Time to separate the pros from the cons 

 The platinum from the bronz 

 And butter soft shit from the leather on the Fonz 

 The S1 diamond from my eye class don 

 A Chan Don sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh 

 Brook Na, sippin on  

  

 [Notorious B.I.G.] 

 Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather 

 The M.A.F.I.A. keep canons in they Marc Buchanans 

 Usually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow, tossin ya 

 Mad slugs through your Nautica, I'm warnin ya 

  

 Chorus