Brooklyn`s Finest Lyrics

Brooklyn`s Finest lyrics

[Pain In Da Ass] 



{*gunshots* OKAY, I'M RELOADED!!! 



You motherfuckers, think you big time? 



Fuckin with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time!



Here come the "Pain"! {*gunshots*







[Jay-Z]



Jigga... (Jigga), Bigga... (Bigga)



Nigga, how you figure... (how you figure)



Yeah, yeah, yeah, aiyyo







Peep the style and the way the cops sweat us (uh-huh)



The number one question is can the Feds get us (uh-huh)



I got vendettas in dice games against ass betters (uh-huh)



and niggaz who pump wheels and drive Jettas



Take that witcha..







[Notorious B.I.G.]



.. hit ya, back split ya



Fuck fist fights and lame 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 y'all pump Willie, I run up in stunts 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, left them paramedics breathin 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 push 700's, they ain't made them yet



Rolex and bracelets is frostbit; rings too



Niggaz 'round the way call me Igloo Stix (Who?)



Motherfucker!







[Chorus]



Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers



(Where you from?) Brooklyn, goin out for all



Marcy - that's right - you don't stop



Bed-Stuy.. you won't stop, nigga!







[Jay-Z]



What, what, what?



Jay-Z, Big' Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers



Brooklyn represent y'all, hit you fold



You crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me?



I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, you're JV



(Jigga) Jay-Z







[Notorious B.I.G.]



.. and Bigga baby!



 My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious, delicious



Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches



from 62's, gem stars, my moms dishes



Gram choppin, police van dockin



D's at my doors knockin







[Jay-Z]



What?Keep rockin



No more, Mister, Nice Guy, I twist your shit 



the fuck back with them pistols, blazin



Hot like cajun



Hotter than even holdin work at the Days Inn



with New York plates outside



Get up outta there, fuck your ride







[Notorious B.I.G.]



Keep your hands high, shit gets steeper



Here comes the Grim Reaper, Frank Wright



Leave the keys to your In-tegra (That's right)



Chill homie, the bitch in the Shoney's told me



You're holdin more drugs than a pharmacy, you ain't harmin me



So pardon me, pass the safe, before I blaze the place 



and here's six shots just in case



(Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...)







[Chorus]



Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers



(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all



(Crown Heights...) You don't stop



(Brownsville...) You won't stop, nigga!



(Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...)



Hah hah!Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers



(Where we from?) Brooklyn goin out to all



(Bushwick...) You don't stop



(Fort Greene...) You won't stop, niggaz!







[Jay-Z]



Yeah, yeah, yeah



For nine six, the only MC with a flu



Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what you're tryin to do



Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white heron



Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms



Stay out my way from here on (CLEAR?) Gone!







[Notoriuos B.I.G.]



Me and Gutter had two spots



The two for five dollar hits, the blue tops



Gotta go, Coolio mean it's gettin "Too Hot"



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



Get it? .. Tu-pac's







[Jay-Z]



Time to separate the pros from the cons



The platinum from the bronze



That butter soft shit from that leather on the Fonz



A S1 diamond from a eye class don



A Cham' Dom' sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh?!



Brook-Nam, 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



(Hah, what the fuck?)







[Chorus]



Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers



(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all



(Flatbush...) You don't stop



(Redhook...) You won't stop, nigga!



(Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...)



Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers



(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all



(East New York...) You don't stop



(Clinton Hill...) You won't stop, nigga!



	{*"Is Brooklyn in the house?"*







[Outro]



Uhh, Roc-A-Fella, y'all, Junior M.A.F.I.A. 



Superbad click, Brook-lyn's Finest, you re-wind this 



Represetin BK to the fullest