Down 4 Whateva Lyrics by M.o.p.

Down 4 Whateva Lyrics

    Brooklyn! uh, yeah! now, check this shit out

    Verse one: o.c.

    Now check this motherfucking capo right here
    Mash out posse slash o.c. come together like a glock and a clip
    We gon' jam when its time to blast!
    Big niggaz that rap, we bout to get in your ass
    We done played the background, ay-yo all my peops
    I'm naming names, fuck it, it's on
    I'm taking it back to some brooklyn shit
    With this ten-man clique
    Who don't know how to act, lookin for some niggaz to hit
    And if you ever think it can't happen to you
    You might just end up in the east river with some bale-ass shoes
    I ain't playin no more, i'm gonna bring it to your ass raw
    I flipped the word around, nigga, this means war
    Yo, fuck that, brooklyn's on the map forever
    To billy and fame, i hope you niggaz down for whatever
    With mike, go get the guns when its time to shoot
    To brooklyn i give a 21-gun salute
    (come on)

    Chorus:

    Flatbush *cut and scratched*
    --crown heights-- "thought i'd remind y'all"
    Brownsville *cut and scratched* (firing squad)
    "thought i'd remind y'all" *scratching*
    Bushwick *cut and scratched* "(see i) thought i'd remind y'all"
    ?? *cut and scratched*
    --east new york-- "thought i'd remind y'all"

    Verse two: lil' fame

    I used to roll 'em, this is a holdup
    Make em roll up, come up out your clothes and get your whole shit swole
    Up
    This game ain't changed cause i became a rapping dude
    I'm still a black cat, quick, and straight clapping dude
    (try to act rude) play the mascott
    With your clown ass ways, these days, look what your ass got
    Clap, shot the body, i'm keeping it real
    That cartoon ass nigga thought he was king of the hill
    That whole shit was animation, immitation
    When i shipped that ass on out, like immigration
    Ways of emancipation, proclamation
    Constitutional rights, the last generation
    Your facin, m.o.p., o.g.'s
    Flippin this track with o.c.
    Niggaz know we, hold this shit down for brooklyn, nigga!
    Where guns spark and leave them things smoking, nigga!

    Chorus

    Verse three: billy danze

    Hot damn! danze shot your head
    Full cooperation, i'm taking donations, ante up the bread
    (clap, clap!) you got that fat while we were gone
    So the balance that i wrote like ???, we're taking on
    Put the rest of that shit in the bag
    I would tear your ass to pieces, so you please don't make me mad
    (here we go again!) you ain't known, i control my destiny
    I only got love for the thugs that's next to me
    (who that?) berkuance, soldier, i'm ill
    *pause* i told ya, i'm real!
    And i've been doing a double danly
    Everyone ?from my crew is sayin? (daddy, don't fail me)
    Hold on, the way that i jettin my foes may never be even
    I'm one of them dudes that niggaz refuse to believe in
    (life is full of obstacles!) so keep weeping
    (at 24-years old) my only goal is too keep breathing

    *scratching* --brooklyn-- "thought i'd remind y'all"

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