Come on y'all and the groove Get on down and make move to the funkiest Brooklyn style, laid out this
Come on and feel the groove Get on down and your move to the funkiest Brooklyn style, laid out like
I kicks the good, to represent the neighborhood I come from, and that's the place of Brooklyn Where the grimies are born and And bullets are eyeballs, two to the head
Well is it Brownsville? to represent for the map where the peeps smoke blunts and like to wear mad gold The party about to explode From the 1-1-2, the double-3 ill zip
on the corner, drinkin' 40's shootin' Cee-Lo It's a thing, aight? You know our steelo And for who just don't know how it go like a substitute teacher and act like you know
So yo, who wanna set it? You better kick best G You and your whole entourage couldn't me I for the fo' main And if you're not a booty bandit, niggaz can't hang
on y'all and feel the groove Get on down and make your Welcome to the Brooklyn style, laid out like
Now, let's get straight down to the I represent for this joint pah, where we're takin' it to Makin' a few dollars don't mean you gotta Where you come from and try to be That you're really not and front what you got
You're gonna be looked at as a man still so keep it real What of mission can I say you on? Because you musta changed to some Grey Poupon, heh I'm really happy to see you up
But always remember my man you up In the all your life, in a broken home Well now Up in the PJ's all life, keepin' it strong, what
I be the Louis Ave livin', live lastin' lover Bonafied black brother, word to the Skilled at trades at hand with who made The man with support and always a fan
My style is perfected In ways you can't imagine rap bein' Funk'll slam like a doper jam, I'm takin like taxes with Uncle Sam So check out the Asiatic of flow Like water in the Nile, but it's Brooklyn
Come on y'all and the groove Get on down and make move to the funkiest Brooklyn style, out like this
Yo, this is Big Scoob, no I'm flippin' on niggaz like little on that mattress You know my style, Baby Pah the PJ's My lyrics so dope, they too fat for local
So hear me out, no doubt, no for screamin' My boys in the back, clockin' your jewels, and schemin' Why did step to me, I hit 'em, bow, bu-dow Knocked out his 'cause the kid was mad fragile
No need for beef chief I'm mad deep So pick up your teeth, I got him shakin' like a Not tryin' to you, I just wanna aware you I bet you won't even at my face (What, what, what) I you
Yo please, yo I'm nice with these While you're guardin' grill I'll be beatin' up kidneys Me and my with the fat tec 9's with my joint cocked back, in case a punk tried to take
I'm from there's no need for hesitation We cock and squeeze, now where's the doctor for patient? He's drippin' and now he's down to his last breath But he won't make it, cause he knows that my is def
The ill, of Brooklyn artist who the har-dest, regard-less who you know and where you're I pull your file (How?) Brooklyn
Come on and feel the groove Get on down and make your Welcome to the Brooklyn style, out like this