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Mobb Deep - Dirty New Yorker (Produced By The Alchemist) | Текст песни

(Prodigy talking)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh, uh, uh
Yeah...

[Prodigy]
Baby mama let's roll, here we go, Cheerio, cereal
Killa with the flow and the blow and the dro'
And the gun go ring, hit 'em all in a row
AK-47, .40-glock, .44, let 'em know from the door
How it go, it's not a joke, there's gon' be a homicide
I'ma ride, I'ma rep me a nigga up in the box
and send 'em to his folks, his bloods, his kin
The drama it don't end, bust a gun
Bust a nigga's face open with the hand
Tell 'em go tell a friend, tell a cop, tell the FEDS
I don't give a mothafuck, you niggas in the Ps
I'ma let the world see you, you're a bitch, you're a snitch
I'ma Mobb Deep gangsta, Infamous soldier
If you got a cold heart then my shit just froze over
Range Rover, Chevy Suburban, the bullet proof trim
The windows on the crib, bullet proof them

(Chorus) Prodigy X2
You're fucking with a Dirty New Yorker
Quens in this bitch fall back or get roped up
You're fucking with a Dirty New Yorker
Quens mothafucka, move and get smoked up

[Havoc]
Ay' let's go
Yeah, yeah I'm for the drama but I'm so laid back
A nigga get at me I'm gon' get 'em right back
I will say that, my flows so crack
You could put 'em in redtops and bump that back
On the block or the corner, you slip you a goner
Your nose's getting warmer, the Ds out for ya
Get money-money or take money-money
Always on my fly shit never catch the kid bummy
Shorty on my nuts like sweats
And it taste like metals and I swear I'm to protected
What do you expect, hoe niggas from let go
Me and him was cool, just a mothafucka suck a gold
Shit, Hav' a professional, nigga kill the noise
You ain't mothafucking techno
Boy I get several, things that severe you
Can't see hell, come here here's a better view

[Prodigy]
Ay' baby mama let's slide on the floor
I'mma pro with the flow
I can go on forever tell me when to stop yo
My first album Head Nigga in Charge it went gold
With my next shit I'm just trying to seel a lil mo'
I won't be mad if it's less, I'm still filthy rich
We going on a permanent tour and never coming back
I'mma vet not a pet, you gon' see when I flip
Niggas trip fall on their face and bust their own shit
Come for me you gon' run up to a wall of cement
Certain niggas not to be touched and I'm one of 'em
Pop to bub me, crack open the Goose and the Gin
You gon' get real fucked up in memory of them
I'mma cop some more ice, houses and whips
Why they mad? Cause they can't spend money like this
180 on the wrist, 190 on the six-speed
Porsche with the turbo and shatter proof tenth


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