Brooklyn`s Finest lyrics

Artist  : Jay 
Song : Brooklyn`s Finest



 Send "Brooklyn`s Finest" Ringtone to your Cell 

 												
														   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
layin 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 hate it 

  

 [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, let the paramedics breath
all 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 put 700's, they ain't made them yet 

 Rolex and bracelets is frostbit 

 Rings too, niggas round the way call me Igloo,
Stick who?  

  

 Chorus: Jay-Z 

  

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

 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 hit
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
heron 

 Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms 

 Stay out the way from heron 

 (Clear) gone 

  

 [Notoriuos 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 Faith had twins, she'd probably have two
Pac's 

 Get it, Tupac'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 through your Nautica, I'm warnin ya


  

 Chorus