Lordz Of Brooklyn: Lob sound

Nowhere to run nowhere to hide it's the Lordz of Brooklyn Kings County do or dieSwitchblades for the rumble we're Lordz we brass knuckleGraffiti never died I made my name in the tunnelIt's all about the fame I came to rain on you warriorsLordz...Come out to playYou tried the rest try the best the L-O-R-D-Z of BrooklynLike the Dodgers not the bums but we're the bombersThere's a lotta sucker groups they be talkin' 'bout the troops but we burn themmotherfuckers like tar beach on my roofCause I been around the block doin' proud by my popI said he worked on the dock busted chumps in his shopCause when you're a Lord you're a Lord all the wayFrom your first cigarette to your last dyin' day[Chorus]Turn it up y'allHere comes that soundThe Lordz of Brooklyn Sound!Again and again and again and again and again and again[Verse Two: performed by ADMoney]Organized freakin' crime dirty ducky boyA hot 110 on you little dumb toysCause I crash ya bash ya straight up harass yaLemme tell ya something - Yo who the fuck asked ya?It's the Lordz of Brooklyn hittin' hard with a batHere come the Lordz puttin' Brooklyn on the mapYou can't get with that you can't get with thisThe Lordz walk the tracks way deep in the RidgeTake a lotta pride stay the fuck off my turfI'm feelin' kind of tipsy yo somebody's gettin' hurtFrom the Verrazano Bridge to the brawls in the parkYo we claimed our mark bustin' heads in the barSo step to the side I'm on the edge of suicideTry to claim the fame I'ma snuff you in the eyeGive you a swift kick in the ass real fastMess with AdMoney I'ma put you in the pastI never pack a gatt cause I'd rather fight with a pipeJust like a fuckin' Guinea bring a knife to a gunfight[Chorus][Verse Three]Cause you're listenin' to the Lordz of BrooklynCouldn't understand it till your shit got tookin'Step on my block hardrock get droppedKeep your mouth shut when you're talkin' to a copHold it up hold it up L. O.B.'s at the doorJust another stick up everybody hit the floorWe're out Saturday night still stayin' aliveYou can find the Lordz of Brooklyn gettin' drunk in some diveWe're some pugilists not afraid to get our hands twistedLike the Duke got your grip put 'em up fight 'em bare fistedStrike picket make way for the union laborTicket tape parade I couldn't be no traitorCause when you're a Lord you're a Lord all the wayFrom your first cigarette to your last dyin' day[Chorus]