Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): J Grinnage, E Murry
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M.O.P.G-Building Lyrics:
I'm back and I'm stuck up in this bitch, who dat?
Me bitch, who dat? The Brooklyn thug, what the fuck you see bitch?
I'm known for regulatin' this game, fuck a critic
'Cuz when I'm spittin' I'maI'm a split your shit, when I aim
Yo, you try to get a name but ain't provin' a thang
I'm still doin' my thang, go head, bells they still ring
Now who the lame that wan' tango with Lil Fame
Step in the ring and I'll break yo' ass up like mills lane
How you like me now? That Kool Moe P, shit, nigga, put it down
Yo, I need a silencer gat, shit too loud when that bitch start to holla
Nigga, do child, made the church people on your block wanna move out
I bump off and I dump off, and a nigga cool out, why?
'Cuz when we in the place with the guns in our waist
We don't say put your hands up, niggas, stand up
You gotta get it, 'cuz you now listen, dump off your body
'Til your whole family die fishin' the street mayor, ghetto street playa
Hit your hooker with this heavy dick meat playa ass cheek flare
Fuck the fame, I agree fuck the fame but I got four words for ya
Don't fuck with Fame 'cuz I'm a machine gun, Kelley, clappa dude
Write my name across your belly, yap a dude ain't no escapin'
These streets I'm raised in, it's so amazin', we still blazin'
Ain't no savin' yo' ass from hell raisin', they be strippin'
Your cantelope off the pavement wit yo' wig split in half
And your chest caved in, so walk on the green, I'm a cut yo' ass down
If you walk in between, so listen up and hear me boy
I'm the American, slash, pretty boy
First Fam, ridiculous violators try to get with us, we quick to bust
Them false dudes can't get wit us, hoes grillin' 'cuz we too tough
Too real, too raw, too rough, first Fam, ridiculous fools try to move
But them fools can't get wit us 'cuz we holdin', blastin', lowlin'
Blastin', strollin', trashin', rollin', mashin'
I done figured it out, what's that? They don't want us to shine, true
You lost your mind if you thought I tossed my iron, I still got it
For when I'm facin' situations like this, you dissin', I'm hittin'
Listen, is it me or the industry to understand, I'm a whole different
Breed of man, Bill Danze, Brownsville, Bronx and I'm servin' double
And single shots on the rocks, nigga, what? Who gon' tame me?
I'm a back block nigga and can't nobody change me
You can look at me strangely keep yappin' at your dogs
If I go up in your mouth, don't blame me, first family trainee
Take what's mine, '99 is my time to shine, that's that
Take it easy, fuck that, I'm ready yo I refuse to dilute jewels
For you fools on this radio, fizzy wo', suckas never played us
They can't fade us, they hate us, they anus
In fact when you touch 'em face to face, they stay in they place
They know, I'm slayed up from the right side left five in one fist
Shut up, shut up, now you wanna show love
You hear the soft music in the background it's your brain on slugs
Now, it's a dirty job but somebody gotta do it
So I crept up, stepped up, got to it fire
First Fam, ridiculous violators try to get with us, we quick to bust
Them false dudes can't get wit us, hoes grillin' 'cuz we too tough
Too real, too raw, too rough, first Fam, ridiculous fools try to move
But them fools can't get wit us 'cuz we holdin', blastin', lowlin'
Blastin', strollin', trashin', rollin', mashin'
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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