Bài hát Brooklyn's Finest Báo Lỗi

[Jay-Z]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ay Yo peep the style and the way the cops sweat us

The number one question is can the Feds get us

I got vendettas in dice games against ass betters

And niggas who pump wheels and drive Jettas, take that with ya


[Notorious B.I.G.]

Hit ya, back split ya, fuck fist fights and lame scuffles

Pillow case to your face, make the shell muffle

Shoot your daughter in the calf muscle

Fuck a tussle, nickel-plated

Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug related, most hated


[Jay-Z]

Can't fade it, while ya'll pump willy, I run up and stunt silly

Scared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me

But on the contrilli, I packs the mack-milli

Squeezed off on him, left the paramedics breathin soft on him

What's ya name?


[Notorious B.I.G.]

Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra

Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet

Tryin to push 700's, they ain't made them yet

Rolex and bracelets is frostbit

Rings too, niggas round the way call me Igloo Stick - who? (motherfuckers)


Chorus: Jay-Z


What, what, what, Jay-Z, Big Smalls, nigga shit ya draws

Brooklyn represent ya'll hit, ya fall

Ya crazy, think a little-bit of rhymes can play me

I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, your JV


(Jigga) Jay-Z


[Notorious B.I.G.]

Nigga baby, My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious

Delicious, Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches

From 62 gem stars, my moms dishes

Gram choppin, police van dockin, D's at me doors knockin


[Jay-Z]

Keep rockin, No more Mista Nice Guy

I twist ya shit the fuck back with the pistols

Blazin, hot like cajun, hotter than leaving holding work at the Days Inn

With New York plates outside, get up outta there, fuck the ride


[Notorious B.I.G.]

Keep ya hands high, shit gets steeper

Here comes the Grim Reaper

Frank Wright, need the keys to your Integra

(That's right)

Chill homie, the bitch in the Shownies told me

Your holding more drugs than a pharmacy

You ain't harmin me, so pardon me

Pass the safe before I blaze the place and here's six shots just in case


Chorus


[Jay-Z]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, for nine six, the only MC with a flu

Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what your tryin to do

Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white hero(i)n

Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms

Stay out the way from here on

(Clear) gone


[Notorious B.I.G.]

Nea Gutter had two spots

The two for five dollar hits, the blue tops

Gotta go, Coolio mean it's gettin Too Hot

If Fey' had twins, she'd probably have two Pacs

Get it? Tu-pac's?


[Jay-Z]

Time to separate the pros from the cons


The platinum from the bronz

And butter soft shit from the leather on the Fonz

The S1 diamond from my eye class don

A Chan Don sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh

Brook Na, sippin on


[Notorious B.I.G.]

Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather

The M.A.F.I.A. keep canons in they Marc Buchanans

Usually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow, tossin ya

Mad slugs though your Nautica, I'm warnin ya


Chorus