Back To Brooklyn Lyrics

Back To Brooklyn lyrics

{*scratching: 'Born and raised in the streets of Brooklyn'*}
Uhh, yeah
Markie Dee and the Soul Convention
Ninety-one to ninety-two
Ninety-two, ninety-three
So on, et cetera et cetera
HanSoul and the Regulators
Crazy Keith, here we go, check it
One time

Champion hoodie, saggin-ass Levi's and my Timbs
Brooklyn hat pulled low, chewin on a peppermint stem stick
Kickin {shit} with the head gassed hoes
They wanna piece of this and so do my foes, yeah
I gotta watch my back, when I walk the streets at night
And on my nine my hand grips tight
Really don't trust nobody, to the point
that if I get a little lip I will reach for my joint
You wanna head up, nah son, my hands ain't gotta feel
No need to show my skills, blast and I'm outta here
So save you cryin for the boys in blue
Get your story straight chump, even if it's true
It'll all be changed when you get to the precinct
Your case is history, worth about three cents
So if you don't want beef, you better stop lookin
Cause I'ma take your as* back to Brooklyn

{*scratching: 'Born and raised in the streets of Brooklyn'*}
Yeah

It's about 3 A.M., I'm on (?) Ave.
I got my toolie and a stack of cash
I never had a problem with the dollar thirty forty
Cause I was makin moves like Fat Cat and Corley
A hustler and a killer, Mark was a smooth don
Always had jewels but never got moved on
Bodies layin decomposin and decayin
You never shoulda {f**ked} with Mark, and now you're layin
in the {motherf**kin} burial ground
 
Cause you wasn't prepared, for the big throwdown
Me and my crew yo, we roll thirty deep
Hungry like wolves, slaughterin sheep
You wouldn't even try to step to this big love daddy
Five-oh had me surrounded but they never really had me
Step with the swiftness, and still had 'em lookin
I had to take my as* back to Brooklyn

{*scratching: 'Born and raised in the streets of Brooklyn'*}
Check it, dig it, dig it

Now from Pinkhouse to Flatbush to Bed-Stuy and back
Try to hold on to the streets I lived at
I had you beggin on your knees
I pump your as* so full of holes you would think you was swiss cheese
So save your pleadin it won't help none
Don't kiss ass, because you're kissin the barrel of my shotgun
Check the glock let me surprise ya
When I'm through your own moms, won't recognize ya
I took the A Uptown with all local stops right
From Queens to Bronx but nothin gets props like
Brooklyn - no disrespect
The other borough brothers can still wreck
Raised in East New York so don't challenge me
The trials and tribulations will increase the brutality
So if you don't want beef you better stop lookin
Cause I'ma take that as* back to Brooklyn

{*scratching: 'Born and raised in the streets of Brooklyn'*}
Word 'em up
A couple of quick shout outs
To Queens, the Bronx, Manhattan
Strong Island, Brooklyn, East New York
Bed-Stuy, Brownsville
Brooklawn, Cypress Hill, Pinkhouse's
Yeah, yeah
Markie Dee and the Soul
We roll deep