Crooklyn Dodgers '95 - Return of the Crooklyn Dodgers (Final Mix with Intro) (Street Version) | Текст песни

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• Crooklyn Dodgers '95
• Return of the Crooklyn Dodgers (Final Mix with Intro) (Street Version)

Hehehe, yeah
Now clock, kids, who got the cocaine?
Don't tell me it's the little kids on Soul Train
The meta-force it I put my brain to my jaw
It comes from other places, not the tinted faces
Journalistic values are yellow and then of course falters
You watch Channel Zero with that BITCH Barbara Walters
She'll have you believe black invented crack
When President Lyndon had the formula way back in sixty-three
with Kennedy, yes the double cross
Remember that's when they blew his fucking head off!
Vietnam vets come back looking like one-armed pests
Nixon bombs, here attached
No picket fence, no job, no Hazel in the car
Blue collar turns to bourgeoise
Depressed in your chest, Demarol for sess
Low dough, crack in veils much less
White he can sell on the corners of Bushwick
White he can sell on the corners of Flatbush
Whiteys can sell on the corners of Bed-Stuy
Pass the torch to that nigga guy
So just DIE, nigga, DIE, nigga
You're too black, you're can't handle you're too strong
get high, fly clock next boost ya steal
In ninety-five we take back Ebbets Field...

*Buckshot Shorty "Let's take a sec to think back..."*

Verse Two: O.C.

Crooklyn, travelin distance to party
Crooklyn, abstinant functions, not hardly
Brooklyn, the name alone holds Godly
You don't know, you better ask somebody
Crack filled streets since eighty-five the beast
gettin paid to not bust, hookers drawers got crushed
Claps clappin regular, hardcore niggaz with
fat gold chains, on the corner maintainin
Gold teeth flashin, stick-up kids play in the front of
Latin Quarters, keep home your daughters
Cause if bullets fly, watch the flamin
Ignorant ducks are shootin wildin, they're not aimin
one needs ta, gotta think about it, what a pity
Five people died in front of, Skate City
Senseless back then you was ill if you had a gun
People dashin flashin, damn no fun
On the square you couldn't shop too much cause
Fort Greene would hem ya wreck the fuck on up
You had Do or Die, East New York, mad hell
Fellaz cuttin school troopin to all go Maxwell
So many memories I can't manifest
Yo 'Ru, start where I finish and to Brooklyn, God bless...

Yo we representin

*Special Ed - "Crazy ass Crooklyn kids
*Buckshot - "represent to Brooklyn all night"*
*"Crazy ass Crooklyn kids"*
*Masta Ase -"because it is, survival of the fittest"*
(repeat 2X)

Verse Three: Jeru the Damaja

Listen cause for your mind I got the right nutrition
We keeps it hard like fat asses and cases of Heineken
Here in Brooklyn, home of the warrior and villain
Trife type chicks Top Billin's, the anthem
Rastas smoke marijuana
Enterprising businessmen shoot dice on the corner
Excuse me while I light my spliff but some choose to sip
So bullets hit brains, when bottles hit lips
Clips whatever happend to 38 special
Now it's Desert Eagles, government issue
Probably the same one that killed Noriega
Chips that powered nuclear bombs, power my Sega
Subliminal hypnotism and colonialism
leaves most niggaz dead or in prison
In Crook-land, right hand cuts off the left hand
to spite the hand, jealous of the next man
So violent crimes, black on black plus mad crack to boot
Everybody can't rap, so most hustle and shoot
Make money money, get money take money
I can't understand that concept cause Jah rules everything around me
Fire burns the unjust like arson larsony
melt MC's with mental telepathy
With precision, we're slicin and dicin
Peace to the East New York, Perverted Monks, and Mike Tyson

*Special Ed - "Crazy ass Crooklyn kids
*Buckshot - "represent to Brooklyn all night"*
*"Crazy ass Crooklyn kids"*
*Masta Ase -"because it is, survival of the fittest"*
(repeat 4X)

Crooklyn (2X)

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