u dont know remix
(I'm not trying to be no big thing, no no)
(I'm not trying to give you no advice)
(I don't claim to be) (no philosopher)
(But I sure know, this is life, baby, baby)
You gotta let this one breathe, Just
Just let it breathe for a second
Yup! Hovi's home!
The newest addition to The Roc, M.O.P
The Blueprint 2 is on its way
I know y'all hear my footsteps out there, I'm coming
Let's go get 'em Just!
Time to dump (fiyah!) dump (fiyah!)
Dump (fiyah!), dump (fiyah!), dump (fiyah!!!)
(You don't know, what you're doing, doing, doing, doing)
It's the M.O.P.!
And the zip code is 1-2-3, and motherfucker we coming
100 miles and gunning, I'm still running with cats that rob
From the era of XL 80's and hatchback Saabs
(SAME GAME!) Operation for this industry lockdown
We still tote hammers that go blak-ow, run up if you wanna
Believe me dawg, these hammers with they owners
Fuck your G up, have ya with blue Pampers in a coma
And your family now moan, look seventy pounds gone
A little fuck, shriveled up with a hospital gown on
(WE HOLDING IT DOWN HOMES!) Keep pushing we fell, bastards
To get over, we prowl with slippery shell tactics
Chippety frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups
Lil' nigglet,, what the fuck you recording for, Nick Jr?
(THE GAME AIN'T CHANGED) it just got harder
Plus we sponsored by Laze, Dame Dash and Mr. S dot Carter
Brownsville (YEP!), we stomp through this bitch all day
Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage
I'm from the G side of thangs, where we ride and bang
With a heat that'll flame, that's how we got the name
(WARRIORS!) Embedded in ya brains
And someone should be telling 'em the veterans have came
And we're better in the game, you better make it rain
(27 a gram) My man, it's better than cocaine
Now everything will change and this Family will rule the world
And you haters can eat a dick up 'til you hiccup and earl!
A decade on the grind, nigga I paid mine
So it's my time to shine and for you to ride the pine
I won't sit back and rap like these dumb-ass kids
I been around, I put it down, I ain't these young-ass kids (M.O.P.)
The O.G.'s repped and survived around this motherfucker
(FIRST FAMILY!) We kept it live around this motherfucker
When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay
Fo' shizzle my nigga, learned to grip pistols in B.K
Turn my music high, high, high, high-er
Mo' fire, more Rocawear attire
Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired
Mo' further for the Roc Empire, y'all won't serve us, y'all nervous
Know them guns on full service, ready to fire
One body, two body, three body, four
Young sitting on paper, I'm above the law
Young shitting on haters, I ain't fucking with y'all
For my Brownsville neighbors, How About Some Hardcore
And it just get worser every time I sign my signature in cursive
Just add another million to these verses
One million, two million, three million, four
And the money's really worthless, I'm pissing you off on purpose
My nephew's situated and my mom is straight
So I'm ready for whatever drama should come my way
And you niggas rapping to me, so your drama is fake
You dudes is noodles, I got more ziti to bake
You dudes is cake, I keep two biscuits on the waist
Razor blades under the tongue, I will eat your face
Appetite for destruction, I am starving today
Got a money hungry lawyer that'll eat the case
And that's just food for thought, don't let it go to waste
Nigga bite the bullet until you stuffing your face, ha
I done forgot more than you ever learned
What you don't know will make yo' home a permanent urn, nigga
Do you believe it?
You don't know, what you're doing - doing - doing - doing
Do you believe it?
You don't know, what you're doing - doing - doing - doing
Do you believe it?