"Brooklyn's Finest" lyrics
(feat. Notorious B.I.G.)
OK, I'm reloaded!
You motherfuckers, think you big time?
Fucking with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time!
Here come the "Pain"!
Jigga (Jigga), Bigga (Bigga)
Nigga, how you figure (how you figure)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayo, peep the style and the way the cops sweat us (uh-huh)
The number one question is can the Feds get us (uh-huh)
I got vendettas in dice games against ass bettors (uh-huh)
And niggas who pump wheels and drive Jettas
Take that with ya
Hit ya, back split ya (uh)
Fuck fist fights and lame scuffles (uh)
Pillow case to your face, make the shell muffle (woo)
Shoot your daughter in the calf muscle (mhm)
Fuck a tussle, nickel-plated
Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug-related (ha ha)
Most hated
Can't fade it (uh, what?)
While y'all pump Willie, I run up and stunt silly (uh-huh)
Scared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me (uh)
But on the con-trilli, I packs the MAC-milli
Squeezed off on him, left them paramedics breathing soft on him
"What's ya name?"
Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra (uh)
Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet
Trying to push 700s, they ain't made them yet
Rolex and bracelets is frostbit; rings too
Niggas 'round the way call me Igloo, stick who?
Motherfucker!
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn, going out for all
(Marcy) That's right, you don't stop
(Bed-Stuy) You won't stop (nigga!)
What, what, what?
Jay-Z, Big' Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
Brooklyn represent y'all, hit you fold
You crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me?
I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, you're JV
(Jigga) Jay-Z
Biggie baby! (uh!)
My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious, delicious
Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches
From 62s, Gemstars, my mom's dishes (uh)
Gram chopping, police van docking
Ds at my doors knocking (what?)
Keep rocking, yeah
No more mister nice guy, I twist your shit
The fuck back with the pistols blazing
Hot like Cajun (uh)
Hotter than even holding work at the Days Inn
With New York plates outside
Get up out of there! Fuck the ride!
Keep your hands high, shit gets steeper (uh!)
Here comes the Grim Reaper, Frank White!
Need the keys to your InnKeeper (That's right)
Chill, homie, the bitch in the Shoney's told me
You're holding more drugs than a pharmacy
You ain't harming me, so pardon me
Pass the safe, before I blaze the place
And here's six shots just in case
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(Crown Heights) You don't stop
(Brownsville) You won't stop (nigga!)
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
(Hah hah!) Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where we from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(Bushwick) You don't stop
(Fort Greene) You won't stop (Niggas!)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
For '9-6, the only MC with a flu
Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what you're trying to do
Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white her-on
Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms (um!)
Stay out my way from here on (Clear?) Gone! (uh!)
Me and Gutta had two spots
The 2-for-5 dollar hits, the blue tops (uh-huh)
Gotta go, Coolio mean it's getting Too Hot
If Fay' had twins, she'd probably have two Pacs (uh!)
Get it? Tu Pac's?
Uh, uh, uh
Time to separate the pros from the cons (and-uh)
The platinum from the bronze
That butter-soft shit from that leather on the Fonz (uh)
A S1 diamond from a I class don
A Chandon sipper from a Rosé nigga, huh?!
Brook-Nam, sipping on
Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather (uh!)
The M.A.F.I.A. keep cannons in they Marc Buchanans (uh!)
Usually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow
Tossing ya, mad slugs through your Nautica
I'm warning ya (Hah, what the fuck?)
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(Flatbush) You don't stop
(Red Hook) That's right, you won't stop (nigga!)
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(East New York) You don't stop (Woo-ee!)
(Clinton Hill) You won't stop (nigga!)
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
"Is Brooklyn in the house?"
Uh, Roc-A-Fella y'all, Junior M.A.F.I.A
Supermen clique
Brooklyn's Finest, you re-wind this
Representing BK to the fullest
You motherfuckers, think you big time?
Fucking with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time!
Here come the "Pain"!
Jigga (Jigga), Bigga (Bigga)
Nigga, how you figure (how you figure)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayo, peep the style and the way the cops sweat us (uh-huh)
The number one question is can the Feds get us (uh-huh)
I got vendettas in dice games against ass bettors (uh-huh)
And niggas who pump wheels and drive Jettas
Take that with ya
Hit ya, back split ya (uh)
Fuck fist fights and lame scuffles (uh)
Pillow case to your face, make the shell muffle (woo)
Shoot your daughter in the calf muscle (mhm)
Fuck a tussle, nickel-plated
Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug-related (ha ha)
Most hated
Can't fade it (uh, what?)
While y'all pump Willie, I run up and stunt silly (uh-huh)
Scared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me (uh)
But on the con-trilli, I packs the MAC-milli
Squeezed off on him, left them paramedics breathing soft on him
"What's ya name?"
Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra (uh)
Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet
Trying to push 700s, they ain't made them yet
Rolex and bracelets is frostbit; rings too
Niggas 'round the way call me Igloo, stick who?
Motherfucker!
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn, going out for all
(Marcy) That's right, you don't stop
(Bed-Stuy) You won't stop (nigga!)
What, what, what?
Jay-Z, Big' Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
Brooklyn represent y'all, hit you fold
You crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me?
I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, you're JV
(Jigga) Jay-Z
Biggie baby! (uh!)
My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious, delicious
Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches
From 62s, Gemstars, my mom's dishes (uh)
Gram chopping, police van docking
Ds at my doors knocking (what?)
Keep rocking, yeah
No more mister nice guy, I twist your shit
The fuck back with the pistols blazing
Hot like Cajun (uh)
Hotter than even holding work at the Days Inn
With New York plates outside
Get up out of there! Fuck the ride!
Keep your hands high, shit gets steeper (uh!)
Here comes the Grim Reaper, Frank White!
Need the keys to your InnKeeper (That's right)
Chill, homie, the bitch in the Shoney's told me
You're holding more drugs than a pharmacy
You ain't harming me, so pardon me
Pass the safe, before I blaze the place
And here's six shots just in case
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(Crown Heights) You don't stop
(Brownsville) You won't stop (nigga!)
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
(Hah hah!) Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where we from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(Bushwick) You don't stop
(Fort Greene) You won't stop (Niggas!)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
For '9-6, the only MC with a flu
Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what you're trying to do
Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white her-on
Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms (um!)
Stay out my way from here on (Clear?) Gone! (uh!)
Me and Gutta had two spots
The 2-for-5 dollar hits, the blue tops (uh-huh)
Gotta go, Coolio mean it's getting Too Hot
If Fay' had twins, she'd probably have two Pacs (uh!)
Get it? Tu Pac's?
Uh, uh, uh
Time to separate the pros from the cons (and-uh)
The platinum from the bronze
That butter-soft shit from that leather on the Fonz (uh)
A S1 diamond from a I class don
A Chandon sipper from a Rosé nigga, huh?!
Brook-Nam, sipping on
Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather (uh!)
The M.A.F.I.A. keep cannons in they Marc Buchanans (uh!)
Usually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow
Tossing ya, mad slugs through your Nautica
I'm warning ya (Hah, what the fuck?)
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(Flatbush) You don't stop
(Red Hook) That's right, you won't stop (nigga!)
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers
(Where you from?) Brooklyn going out to all
(East New York) You don't stop (Woo-ee!)
(Clinton Hill) You won't stop (nigga!)
("Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn")
"Is Brooklyn in the house?"
Uh, Roc-A-Fella y'all, Junior M.A.F.I.A
Supermen clique
Brooklyn's Finest, you re-wind this
Representing BK to the fullest
Writer(s): Norman Napier, Le Roy Roosevelt Bonner, Walter Morrison, Rodolfo Antonio Franklin, Allen Webster Gregory, Marshall Jones, Marvin Pierce, Ralph Middlebrooks, Clarence Satchell, Shawn Carter, Christopher Wallace
