B.R.

AUSTIN ROBERTS, ERIC MATLOCK, KIM ROSE, O'SHEA HUNTER, ROBERT ROSS

Black rob, BR
Black rob, BR

I am about to set the record straight (The world's famous)
It's ninety-nine, man
Time to let them know, man

[Black rob]
Yo, aiyyo, yo, yo
It's kill or be killed
My skills leavin' them chilled on ice
Like twice when I flash my steel
They can't touch
Won't touch
Never touch
Driving around with the toasty whip; never bust
Puffin' dust like fiends
I mean I want green; ya shifty
Cop the big eight fifty with the gleam
My team full of cut throats with enough notes to write a fuckin' book
Take a good fucking look at these bad guys
Stay mad fly, mad high
In the Ford Expidie, and I don't expect to die
On some humble shit
I am on some rumble shit
When it's on, you should see the shit I come through with
If you scared, by dog, release the four by fours
I heard the fagot-ass Don died, and he shit in his drawers
On the streets, black; good like Allstate
Y'all fake
Just got paid, but fuck it, I want some more cake
Ya faith in my hand
Now ya nervous, man, and drive my brains quick fast at ya service
My brother Curtis squeeze gats to celliums
I make it where you can't escape the para bedlams
I tell some live ya life like Puff did
I did enough biz; ask any body
I am rough kid

[Chorus]
Black Rob we are
Black Rob uh-uh
Black Rob we are
Black Rob uh-uh
Black Rob we are
Black Rob uh-uh
Black Rob we are
Black Rob

[G-Dep]
Yo, yo
I put a finger in the air
For the hearing impaired
If you're hearin' this fear
Then your hearing - it cleared
Man, I fuck with bod
Got put on the job
Don't question it to stars, I'm a put 'em in saw
Straight gate
I suggest you vacate
When I shake, they feel earthquakes in eight states
Oh, trait, off the Richter
Drunk off the liquor
Shot towards you, mister
Off course, it hit you hard
It gets hard
I pick the card
Any card, any problem I'm a hit your squad
Eyes on the shaper when I twisted God
You think you got it all together
Get it ripped apart
Man, you can't stand the heat
Stay up outta the street
Nigga turn po-lice 'cause they shot up his jeep
I subtract like mad
Don't make me bad
So I want it all; fuck had
Don't make me laugh
By all means
Get this money; it's all green
It's all good
And I wished that y'all would
Man, fuck that, security told ya to tuck that
Now up that, now that you see where 'lux at
I got the game by the balls
And I get all calls
So if you play to much, I put the shit on pause

[Chorus]

BR
BR
Bad Boy, nigga
Harlem Underworld
Alumni
The one guy
The gun die
Day one
Life Stories
Black ninety-nine
Life Stories
I'm here; 1999, baby, it's on
I think I'm about to feel something here
We here, baby
Bad Boy
Bad Boy

Curiosità sulla canzone B.R. di Tony Touch

Chi ha composto la canzone “B.R.” di di Tony Touch?
La canzone “B.R.” di di Tony Touch è stata composta da AUSTIN ROBERTS, ERIC MATLOCK, KIM ROSE, O'SHEA HUNTER, ROBERT ROSS.

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