Prince Markie Dee And Soul Convention - 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-a** Levi's and my Timbs Brooklyn hat pulled low, chewin on a peppermint stem stick Kickin {sh**} with the head ga**ed 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 sk**s, 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 a** 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 k**er, Mark was a smooth don Always had j**els but never got moved on Bodies layin decomposin and decayin You never shoulda {f**ed} with Mark, and now you're layin In the {motherf**in} 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 a** 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 a** so full of holes you would think you was swiss cheese So save your pleadin it won't help none Don't kiss a**, 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 a** 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