DJ Premier - Brownsville lyrics

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DJ Premier - Brownsville lyrics

Brownsville's the place where crews seem the livest Cops get knocked down body counts' only rising Them streets look - Full to ya! Villains look - Poor to ya! Them n***as'll - Slaughter ya! For your goose Nautica You got j**els? Stash 'em son Cause there's a thousand n***as broke And we all got guns! And you know what that means n***as be open like they smoking caffeine Looking to do a quick stick, move, and swift With your ifth on your hip Ready to flip Whenever you empty your clip, dip And get the f** up out of Dodge That's if you know what's up kid n***as is getting Mandela time Plus the crackers is corrupted But then you got them clockers down at 73rd That was drug a**ociated since the 70's, word It's kinda skeptic Living these crazy ways unprotected Every day is a chance So expect the unexpected Crime time! 1-718 Brownsville, Brooklyn The housing property be getting tooken So we're intended Be under pressure getting blackmailed Villains using their dealings Making k**ings off of crack sales The theme song of murder Nobody's kidding These fools are forbidden Automatics just be spittin' And devastating, and profound You get lumped up soon as you jump up Or get gunned down in Brownsville Young bucks got guns (Now that's a damn shame) Everybody claim they represent and do they thing _____ toting in cases hard to believe The firing squad'll throw your whole borough under siege Beyond twin chrome and farmers n***a it's Billy Danze And when I'm double clutching my hands Them f**ers won't jam So my man, if your seeking an advance to your grave It's the land of the drama lord And the home of the f**ing brave It's hard to trust us cause it's mad ruckus We tote techs with mufflers for small time hustlers It's blue steel concealed under my sweater To calm down whoever Duke, I move clever I must keep it stepping, hops When sh** be getting' hot I step and bop While I stroll with my weapon co*ked The hill that's real, we k** at will Clack Clack! Clack Clack! Clack Clack! Clack Clack! Mad guns in your grill In the 'Ville Brownsville! (Yeah) k**ings here only bring retaliation No crying See dying's an everyday thing Swing 25 n***as down by my battlegrounds I'll move in with 8 thugs that love busting rounds You know the deal In my streets your heater be ready to blaze Keep cash in your stash In case you gotta be Swayze For twisting a n***a cap back That's that work of M.O.P Who we be? Firing squad of 11233 Clack Clack! Whole clips in your back That's thug style Turning a small section of Brooklyn Into the OK Corral Now, news flash Razorfied lead One grazed Ted Two paralyzed Three dead Gunmen fled the scenery With heavy automatic machinery n***as ain't got nothing to lose And yo it seems to be Ill n***a k** or be k**ed In the 'Ville n***a All up and down Mother Gaston They blasting steel Blow your stacks and chips In AC's with rims We be living good With a MAC and black Tims Keep this in mind And they might not find you in the river With the next guy That fly sh** that Brownsville deliver, n***a