 unknown » The lyrics [+ Add +] |
1. _ Hard Like A Criminal
Verse one
Well biggedy bust a mover
I biggedy be the trooper cause i'm slammin
I'm ready to check this jam
That this <bitch> is havin
I'm audi, i'm riggedy rollin four deep, don't sweat it
I'm troopin it with my niggaz, east new york is where i'm headed
I'm friggedy freshly dipped, cold as shit but money i'm rugged
I'm rockin my forty belows in the snow so yo bug it
Yo fellaz, let's giggedy grab the train, fuck the walkin
Aaah, here we go, yo, why these people hawkin?
You you stupid <fuck>, you look at my crew and now you're thinkin
(they must be wildin...-= is that them stinkin?)
Fuck no you wan-ton soup serving <girl>
You're staring, you beady eyed bastard link
Whaddya think dick? i'm comin around the train and bumrush ya
Give me a ten foot pole and i wouldn't even touch ya
Hey lady, i see you sittin by the conductor
Thinkin that i'm a nigga, you figure i wanna fuck ya
Fuck there goes my beeper now these people think i'm slingin
Rocks by the blocks and killin em by the millions
But yo hops, here kiggedy comes my stop now i'm audi
I giggedy gots to go you motherfuckers think i'm rowdy and
Verse two
The people love it
I'm swingin it from the lifestyles of the ruff and rugged
They got me upstate troop, so fuck it
In penile, i'm hard as a fuckin brick i wreck shop
Money grip, i'm up in the yard fightin kids till i drop
But, i'm out now, so fuckers around the way are sweatin my peoples
Not worried about a new jack black my shit is diezel
Cause i pack, steel, i got the back, wheel
And plus i got the yung and the resless watchin my back, still
Because i'm runnin the ave again
I'm back in the game with my neighbor
Up on the ave runnin guns that was to be the new flavor
And i'm wid it, my cousin's throwin a jam tonight i figures
That i'm bringin all my guns and i'm bringin all my niggaz
(don't go hangin out with no niggaz...-= that's the life, that i lead)
You figgedy fuck around you lay around i told my cousin
First kill the flex, word is born i'ma bug him
We spiggedy spark the buddha now i got the devil in me
I'm sick, quick to smoke a nigga like a chimney
I'm packin a clip, ready to flip, just me and my friends
Twenty deep and two deep, a b-m-w and a benz, rollin
Verse three
Brrr, it's cold as shit, liggedy split i think we're here g
Fuck i forgot her address, yo fellaz just bear with me
Yo stevie, remember the crib she was tellin us that she chilled in
Well there go the block she live on and i think that's her buildin
Let the games begin i'm packin my steel with nuff dreads
In front of the buldin shit's thick cause all i could see was nuff heads
But i know them, we're spiggedy sparkin blunts and squeezin triggers
Bustin caps with my troops and a buncha other niggaz
Awww shit, niggaz is bustin caps, fuck that
I'm ready to find this crib, where this bitch live at?
Let's see, none of them kids right there heard of shorty
Whadup duke, any y'all niggaz heard about this party?
Who the fuck are you g? you couldn't be talkin to me hops
Get off that bullshit kid or get your teeth dropped
Cause out here, the biggedy bumrush is mad thick
I'm ready to catch a body so you might get had quick
A'ight g, i'll biggedy back up but kill the yappin
Don't play me for no sucker motherfucker it won't happen
Yo fellaz, let's biggedy break north before i flip
I'm sick of the way these punk niggaz always talkin shit
Punk what? you stupid motherfuck, is you crazy?
I'm liggedy loadin my clip about to flip, you're swayze
I'm ready to light em up the four fifth is set to ill
So i tightens up my hoody so noone can see the grill
Yo what the fuck you doin man? (blam-blam)
(ohh shit)
What the fuck, now what?
Where your man at now g, what?
Yo blitz, yo blitz yo let's be out
Figgedy fuck it
I caught another body now i'm back up
State doin a year and a half until my court date
more free lyrics |
2. _ Microphone Master (41st Side Remix)
Chorus: das efx & mobb deep
Miggity microphone master, funky rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, and we the niggas making paper
Miggity microphone master, yeah about to get live
Striggity straight from the sewer and the 41st side
Verse one: prodigy
The infamous mobb and das now listen
Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in
Rapping school, keep the key in the ignition
When we get back nigga, we shine and glisten
Your seven do his thing with percision
No time for broke living, i'm trying to see addition
Food to fill my kitchen
So faggot kids snitch and give info
Do a drive by in a stolen black pinto
With tinted windows, bullets will flury through your system
Your man ran looking for him because he missed him
But catch him on the rebound but see now
Trying to get this money or try to stop me, what's it gonna be now?
You stand up to my crew and get laid down
On the ground with teh big four pound, he hear the sound
On the other side of town, where caps get peeled
Break you off love love, give you something to feel
Das efx, mobb deep, niggas holding it down
Run and flex ask mc's ?john be down?
Eager to please rap niggas get back smacked with pist-als
Forced to exile, back in the nile
Verse two: dray
Well now ease up selector, i bring it on again
This is for all my niggas doing time up in the fucking pen
How y'all been? i can't forget my niggas who got left back, f that
And all my honeys chilling out in lefrack
Sent this, we gets busy with no followers
Stomp you then you throw the towel up, make you roll the owl up
Niggas mount up, it's the infamous with the sewer
Go to queens and get my weed for one cent and ???
Check one two ah, blew ya, out the box like stella
Coming from the under with the thunder like shelly
Really, we coming deep just like the mobb
Nigga, rhyming is my job but you can wind up getting robbed
Anyway, in a day, or night it don't matter
It's me that nigga p, how fick and a jibba jabba-
Jaw, we bring it raw without a doubt
It's the infamous and das efx here to turn it out
Chorus x2
Verse three: havoc
Ayo kid what you gonna do with that black deuce deuce?
Hit you up, take the cash, and slug through the roof
Taking yours to survive, it's all a matter of time
I'm snatching, living grimey, running never look back
The buddha evil got me acting like that
Life ain't a game, the streets is mortal combat
I wasn't blessed with the silver spoon
Since my born i was doomed to find to one room
Now you's a customer, copping for natural born hustlers
That's what he thought, son, stupid kid you get extorted
Stop smiling, be still don't nothing move but the money
The infamous gat clappers and mic masters
Verse four: scoob
Well fuck around and i'm a higgity hit ya with hickory diculous
Sick a niggas style, twisted off the licorous
I'll figure it's the books, iggity off the hook
Holding shit down son, we keeping niggas shook
I got it made like flaunt, fatigue on
My man slipped up and got bagged for three bones
Oh my god, the squiggity squad is in the place
With the mobb, niggas can get robbed like mase
Taste the terror for the leather in the beemer
The olde e abuser, can't fuck with ?ceeno?
The non-pop singer from the land of rock slingers
Where shit is hotter than gunsmoke from niggas glocks
I rip shit for sun so come one come all
Mc's will get mad, burned like jamal
Live in ym television from the cellar to the attic
It's the books, crazy dray-z, prodigy, and fucking havoc and it don't stop
Chorus x4
more free lyrics |
|
|
In The Album [+ Add +] |
this album has no video. You can add by clicking the link below.
[+ Add a video +]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
English 
