FannyPack - Seven One Eight lyrics

Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes BK is you wit me New York City Everywhere else you can s** up my titties Eat a Big Mac and go to hell In an old bucket f** it yo it ain't hard to tell That we got this party on smash Now we gonna put you on blast Written in my sh** list you dead last Face look like you did a hundred yard dash In a 90 yard gym you look busted Bootleg tap a keg spread it like mustard On my buns always fun Got other girls out on the run Scared and they lookin' like they saw a gun Maybe they did they boyfriend's crib That's where I woke up this morning 'Cause he said that you boring Don't like him anyway he was snoring You can have his a** back while I'm out touring Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Yo Brooklyn, yo Bronx, Manhattan, yo Queens

Staten Island, yo Jersey and everywhere in between yo Holla if you broke or an English bloke And if you know what I mean seen Baseball bat in the back seat Of Matt's black car and I travel far Much further than you witcha Metro Card Betcho a** is on welfare That's okay so am I, psyche Still gonna put my thing down tonight One time for your mind five of a kind Look at all the people look how they lined up At the door they want more I bring grams to the crackers like s'mores Say oh no, say hell yeah, oh no, hell yeah Now bust shots in the air Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes I got a big a** wad of nothing in my pockets Still my fans get me high like rockets At the show here we go Backstage underage and I drink it slow Oh my God what's the matter? We get hot s** served on a platter Nick nack paddy wack givin' Matt a bo*er So much paper but we ain't stoners Go'n get wild for the night Don't act like a child tonight yo Fancy got me dancin', you take off your pants and You get rude in your underoos So so moved by my rap haikus Yo what the f** is wrong with you? What the f** you think we came here to do huh? Shake yo sh** shake yo sh** Do it, do it like this, can you handle it?