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Текст песни Lordz of Brooklyn - LoB Sound

Lordz of Brooklyn - LoB Sound слова песни

[Verse One]Nowhere to run nowhere to hide it`s the Lordz of Brooklyn Kings County do or dieSwitchblades for the rumble we`re Lordz we brass knuckleGraffiti never died I made my name in the tunnelIt`s all about the fame I came to rain on you warriorsLordz...Come out to playYou tried the rest try the best the L-O-R-D-Z of BrooklynLike the Dodgers not the bums but we`re the bombersThere`s a lotta sucker groups they be talkin` `bout the troops but we burn themmotherfuckers like tar beach on my roofCause I been around the block doin` proud by my popI said he worked on the dock busted chumps in his shopCause when you`re a Lord you`re a Lord all the wayFrom your first cigarette to your last dyin` day[Chorus]Turn it up y`allHere comes that soundThe Lordz of Brooklyn Sound!Again and again and again and again and again and again[Verse Two: performed by ADMoney]Organized freakin` crime dirty ducky boyA hot 110 on you little dumb toysCause I crash ya bash ya straight up harass yaLemme tell ya something - Yo who the fuck asked ya?It`s the Lordz of Brooklyn hittin` hard with a batHere come the Lordz puttin` Brooklyn on the mapYou can`t get with that you can`t get with thisThe Lordz walk the tracks way deep in the RidgeTake a lotta pride stay the fuck off my turfI`m feelin` kind of tipsy yo somebody`s gettin` hurtFrom the Verrazano Bridge to the brawls in the parkYo we claimed our mark bustin` heads in the barSo step to the side I`m on the edge of suicideTry to claim the fame I`ma snuff you in the eyeGive you a swift kick in the ass real fastMess with AdMoney I`ma put you in the pastI never pack a gatt cause I`d rather fight with a pipeJust like a fuckin` Guinea bring a knife to a gunfight[Chorus][Verse Three]Cause you`re listenin` to the Lordz of BrooklynCouldn`t understand it till your shit got tookin`Step on my block hardrock get droppedKeep your mouth shut when you`re talkin` to a copHold it up hold it up L. O.B.`s at the doorJust another stick up everybody hit the floorWe`re out Saturday night still stayin` aliveYou can find the Lordz of Brooklyn gettin` drunk in some diveWe`re some pugilists not afraid to get our hands twistedLike the Duke got your grip put `em up fight `em bare fistedStrike picket make way for the union laborTicket tape parade I couldn`t be no traitorCause when you`re a Lord you`re a Lord all the wayFrom your first cigarette to your last dyin` day[Chorus]

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