B2k - Ante Up (Robbin Hoodz Theory) lyrics

Take minks off, take things off Take chains off, take rings off Bracelets is yapped, Fame came off Ante up, everything off Fool, what you want? We stifflin' fools Fool, what you want? Your life or your j**els? The rules, back 'em down, next thing, clap 'em down Respect mine, we Brooklyn bound now Brownsville, home of the brave Put in work in the street like a slave Keep a rugged dress code, always in this stress mode That sh** will send you to your grave, so? You think, I don't know that? Blow n***a hold that, blow, n***a hold that, blow, n***a hold that From the street cousin, you know the drill I'm nine hundred and ninety nine thou short of a mil Ante up, yap that fool Ante up, kidnap that fool It's the perfect timin', you see the man shinin' Get up off them God damn diamonds Ante up, oh, yap that fool, oh Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool Get him, get him, hit him, hit him Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him Them thugs you know, ain't friendly Them j**els you rock, make 'em envy You thinkin' it's all good, you creep through a small hood Goons comin' up outta a cut for your goods and they all should Ante up, yap that fool You want big money, kidnap that fool If you up in the club, back out your pistol money Catch them fools at the bar for that Crystal money The '87 stick up kids, what you n***as sayin'? Get the f** up, out that 740 shorty, I ain't playin' It's flash that thing time, bang, bang time Ante up, n***a, it's game time Hand over the ring, take over the chain Gimme the f**in' watch before I pop one in your brain Stop playin' these childish games with me Representin' 1-7-1-8, dangerously, n***a Ante up, yap that fool Ante up, kidnap that fool It's the perfect timin', you see the man shinin' Get up off them God damn diamonds Ante up, oh, yap that fool, oh Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool Get him, get him, hit him, hit him Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him I'm a, street regulator, true player hater Get back down, make your a** a mac spray hater Things that we need, money, clothes, weed indeed Hats, food, booze, essentials, credentials Code of the streets, owners who creep Slow when you sleep, holdin' the heat Put holes in your jeep, respect the streets It's the Lil' Fame Yeah, n***a dance, gave you a chance 'Cause I blazed your man, I'm in the wrong He said he was strong I had reason to believe he had some sh** up his sleeve all along So, f** you, your honor, check my persona I'm strong enough for old gold and marijuana I'm a do what I wanna, quiet as kept Raise hell, til I was tired of stress, yes Lord Ante up, yap that fool Ante up, kidnap that fool It's the perfect timin', you see the man shinin' Get up off them God damn diamonds Ante up, oh, yap that fool, oh Ante up, oh, kidnap that fool Get him, get him, hit him, hit him Yap him, zap him, yap him, zap him The f**, the f**, the f** n***a, what the f**, what the f**, what the f**? What? First family, first family, Brooklyn, yeah