Brooklyn Style...Laid Out (feat. Big Scoob)

Come on y'all and feel the groove

Get on down and make your move

Welcome to the funkiest

Brooklyn style, laid out like this

Come on y'all and feel the groove

Get on down and make your move

Welcome to the funkiest

Brooklyn style, laid out like this

I kicks the flavor good to represent the neighborhood

Where I come from and that's the place of Brooklyn

Where the grimies are born and bred

And bullets are like eyeballs, two to the head

Well, is it Brownsville? Time to represent for the map

Where the peeps smoke blunts and like to wear mad gold caps

The party addict about to explode

From the one-one-two, the double-three ill zip code

Parlayin' on the corner, drinkin' 40's shooting cee-lo

It's a Brooklyn thing, alright? You know our steelo

And for those who just don't know how it go

Play like a substitute teacher and act like you know

So yo, who want to set it? You better kick your best G

You and your whole entourage couldn't test me

I represent for the fo' main

And if you're not a booty bandit, then **** can't hang

Come on y'all and feel the groove

Get on down and make your move

Welcome to the funkiest

Brooklyn style, laid out like this

Now, let's get straight down to the point

I represent for this Brooklyn joint, baby pah

Where we taking it to?

Making a few dollars don't mean you gotta forget

Where you come from and try to be someone that you're really not

And front with what you got

You're gonna be looked at as a black man still, so keep it real

What type of mission can I say you on?

Because you must of done changed to some Grey Poupon

I'm real happy to see you blew up

But always remember my man, you grew up

In the P.J.'s all your life, in a broken home

Well, alright now

Up in the P.J.'s all your life

Keeping strong, what

I be the Louis Ave living, live long lasting lover

Bonafide black brother, word to the mother

Skilled at trades at hand with those who made

The man with support and always stayed a fan

My dialectic style is perfected

In ways you can't imagine rap being accepted

Funk'll slam like a doper jam, props

I'm taking mine like taxes with Uncle Sam

So check out the asiatic type of flow

Like water in the Nile, but it's Brooklyn style

Come on y'all and feel the groove

Get on down and make your move

Welcome to the funkiest

Brooklyn style, laid out like this

Yo, this is Big Scoob, no practice

I'm flipping on **** like little kids on the mattress

You know my style, Baby Pah from the P.J.'s

My lyrics so dope, they're too fat for local D.J.'s

So hear me out, no doubt, no need for screaming

My boys in the back, clockin' your jewels and they scheming

Why did they step to me, I hit 'em bow, bu-dow

Knocked out his fronts 'cause the kid was mad fragile

No need for beef chief, I'm rolling mad deep

So pick up your teeth, I got him shaking like a leaf

No tryna scare you, I just want to aware you

I bet you won't even look at my face, I dare you

(What, what, what)

Yo **** please, yo, I'm nice with these

While you're guardin' your grill, I'll be beating up your kidneys

Me and my boys with the fat Tech Nines

With my joint cocked back, incase a punk tried to take mines

Where I'm from theres's no need for hesitation

We cock and squeeze, now where's the doctor for this patient?

He's dripping blood now, he's down to his last breath

But he won't make it 'cause he knows that my joint is def

The ill type of Brooklyn artist

Who rocks the hardest, regardless

Who you know and where you're from, I pull your file

(How?)

Brooklyn style

Come on y'all and feel the groove

Get on down and make your move

Welcome to the funkiest

Brooklyn style, laid out like this