Besedila pesmi

Lordz of Brooklyn - Out to bomb

 

 






[Verse One]

Put the pedal to the metal let's turn it out

Let's show these motherfuckers what it's all about

Is it all about the pride all about the crowd

Run from a cop never drop on a dime

Put your hands up cause I'm clockin' dough

Don't never say a white boy ain't got no soul

I ain't on parole never snitch to a fed

Yo the only fuckin' singin' is your girl in my bed

I'm sick up to here with this and that

I ain't pushin' crack so step the hell back

It's the Lordz of Brooklyn in the house here to turn it out

Right in your face punk what's it all about?





I'm out to bomb!

Put it up! Get it on!

I'm out to bomb!

Put it up! Get it on!



[Verse Two]

I set sail like the holy grail the crusader don't cater to no shit that's frail

Take me to the catacomb on the dragon's chrome

After dark I leave my mark like it's etched in stone

I'm pure white heat I take a quantum leap

I'm coming deep in the night like a nightmare in your sleep

Like a Viking funeral I'm leaving shit burned

I said clowns get drowned when the tide gets turned

We're the Lordz we sport the crowns we're the kings underground

What comes around goes around and it brings you right down







[Verse Three]

I'm on a sixth probation or should I say vacation

Vickin' motherfuckers when they're steppin' in my station

Stalkin' through the tunnel with a shank in my hand

Penetrate that fuckin' lung let it flow like a dam

Something's up with Kaves something's up with Kaves

Yo you gotta get made made

Yo you gotta get paid paid

I'm the king of enamel the crazy ducky boy wearing flannel

I climb the Verrazano eat my pasta with Romano

The Brooklyn mutt is about to go rabid

Killin' motherfuckers is my only bad habit

Punks jump up and I'm doin' 'em

My Louisville broke so I switched to aluminum

Yo lemme tell you somethin' about the Verrazano Boys

We made a lot of noise beatin' up them toys

If you stepped to the crew or even walked on the fame

You know you got stomped by a big ink stain

1995 we're called Lordz of Brooklyn

Step on the turf and your wallet's gettin' tookin'

Vamped thrown to the curb had a lotta nerve to steppin' on my turf

Now you're gettin' whacked! Pow! Whacked with a bat

Now you're suckin' on the dust from my black Cadillac

Here I come big shots it's ADM

Leader of the pack who don't give a damn

Pass me the wine lemme throw it down

You heard what's on my mind now check the sound




 

 

 

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