Brooklyn Thing
I don't even do diss records
But this mother fucker right here had to be aired out
Its Dux Duce on the mother fuckin' track
You fake niggaz owe something more to the game
You lame niggaz costume wearing a disguise
Here to get it rectified, make it all clear
Never really hoping that you really could of found me
Gangsters don't around setting up a meeting
All they do is watch they prey and ready when they meet 'em
So know that if we cross paths, imma have to teach 'em, not to try to pose a threat
The games gon' going to eat em
See em when I see em, and I know that he gon' freeze up
Better throw ya dukes
Dux in the background watching every movement
I-95 South really couldn't save you, got peeps in every state
Yes I got the message that u out there talking reckless
Still trying to sell a dream, saying u connected
But ya gear says it all, looking like a broke fella
Tried to get that fast doe, but he was a dope failure
Couldn't do the easy thing imagine if it got harder
Stay trying to rap, but get madder I go harder
Only real reason u didn't want my verse on it
So I get the beat and tear it up because we own it
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Imma natural leader, story speaker, master beat rider
Street scholar, word juggler, digital download, mp3 hustler
Bushwick conglomerate, East coast monogamist, old school Metropolis
I, the psychologist call me Dr. Lyricist
Put you on the hater list, far left, evangelist
Too nice to play on it but I still play with it
Fondle it violate it you softer than that baby shit
Know I am a 80's kid, connected to the roots man
We don't snitch and talk man, leave the words to walkman
Know I'm on that hood thang- puerto roc twang
Know that we be hooking things, like we on a yacht hunting
Heard u got a lot to say but do u really want something
Ha ha, I don't think so...
I got that automatic revolver, the language you borrowed
You getting involved in problems you can't even solve
Don't let that head gasser go and try to string you along
Ring the alarm we got a burglar robbing from Pit-bull
Know he's minuscule, so I won't mention em'
Means he's brain minimal, not a real challenger
Let him dig his own grave
I got my style tested and they telling me it's grade A
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
But this mother fucker right here had to be aired out
Its Dux Duce on the mother fuckin' track
You fake niggaz owe something more to the game
You lame niggaz costume wearing a disguise
Here to get it rectified, make it all clear
Never really hoping that you really could of found me
Gangsters don't around setting up a meeting
All they do is watch they prey and ready when they meet 'em
So know that if we cross paths, imma have to teach 'em, not to try to pose a threat
The games gon' going to eat em
See em when I see em, and I know that he gon' freeze up
Better throw ya dukes
Dux in the background watching every movement
I-95 South really couldn't save you, got peeps in every state
Yes I got the message that u out there talking reckless
Still trying to sell a dream, saying u connected
But ya gear says it all, looking like a broke fella
Tried to get that fast doe, but he was a dope failure
Couldn't do the easy thing imagine if it got harder
Stay trying to rap, but get madder I go harder
Only real reason u didn't want my verse on it
So I get the beat and tear it up because we own it
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Imma natural leader, story speaker, master beat rider
Street scholar, word juggler, digital download, mp3 hustler
Bushwick conglomerate, East coast monogamist, old school Metropolis
I, the psychologist call me Dr. Lyricist
Put you on the hater list, far left, evangelist
Too nice to play on it but I still play with it
Fondle it violate it you softer than that baby shit
Know I am a 80's kid, connected to the roots man
We don't snitch and talk man, leave the words to walkman
Know I'm on that hood thang- puerto roc twang
Know that we be hooking things, like we on a yacht hunting
Heard u got a lot to say but do u really want something
Ha ha, I don't think so...
I got that automatic revolver, the language you borrowed
You getting involved in problems you can't even solve
Don't let that head gasser go and try to string you along
Ring the alarm we got a burglar robbing from Pit-bull
Know he's minuscule, so I won't mention em'
Means he's brain minimal, not a real challenger
Let him dig his own grave
I got my style tested and they telling me it's grade A
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Its Brooklyn thing the way we hook
The way we hook them things
Got a little bit adobo wit a lot a bit of swing
It's a family thing, no outsiders here
Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Rodriguez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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