[Buckshot Shorty:] "Straight from Crooklyn, better known as Brooklyn" [Guru:] "Never takin shorts cause Brooklyn's the borough" [x2: with scratching]
[Masta Ase x2:] "We did it like that, and now we do it like this"
[Verse One: Chubb Rock]
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" [x2]
[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 Y