M.O.P.: 4 Alarm blaze

Seventy-fiveRaised on a strip called here brotha hillWhere guns pop and cops get killedThis is the place where paranoyaDestroyin' niggas cash cases mo' try to flash they lawyersWe're losin' itFour fives and knives we be movin' witCaught up in the things that the street game confused you witWe're provin' itLet it be known if retaliationHome-skillet - it's onThat rap nigga bust a cap nigga flat niggaOpen up your back nigga Rosewood black niggaFirst family gone brawlIt's president's resident, and I'm the first dogYou know the M.O.P statusIn the history of crime and rap we some the baddestWord to the mommyAny fool try meGet hit wit the LlamaFuck cuminanaChorus - Teflon and Lil' Fame: 2XIt's a4 alarm blazeEverybody post up next to the stageCome onYou're all welcome to hell's roadwayFirst family styleBuck ass wildWhat ya sayBilly Danze:Get ya man on the jack soldierGrip your mac soldierFIRST FAMILYWe're back soldierAnd we have swam through the Brownsville sewersThe last on the line of our kind CRIME DO'ERSBurkowitz MOB STYLESpit fire from my hammer like I wasn't God's childCrucify me - but don't deny meOr get slit bitch you couldn't slip nothin' by meTry me and I'll pop shots like I'm supposed toI'm from the field where the covers are unnoticableI've noticed a few niggas wantin' my headUsed my smarts and my secret all are firin' lead (Fire ya lead)With all intentions of droppin' a bodyI'm usually nervous so I'm flinchin' when I enter the partyTHE BROWNSVILLE NECTARThat bullshitJust when you thought it was safe I flipped and hit em wit more shitChorus 2X:Teflon:Introducin' the best kept secretIt's no sweet shit I sleep wit green beretBlaze enemies frequentI speak wit authority(Black) Perhaps through four to beCap quarterly blazed till it's quiet and orderlyThe gunsmoke make son soakThe smoke run through the barrel until the gun chokeRaised cold-hearted and deadlySurvive wit a nickel-plated tool and jewels old-timer done fed meKeep my grip steadySqueeze till they drop offMake sure all other guns are popped off as heavyBlowin some high-tech shitThrough your projectsMakin' whatever was in my way easy to di-tectI wrecks guysOver money gone Saratoga son be in a Columbian necktieWe don't respects byHalf-ass niggasBlast niggasGas niggas who won't "lastThe sect dieAll: 2XJust when you thought it was safeThe mashed out posse hit you off wit another tasteUh (Uh) Uh (Uh) Uh (Uh ) Uh (Uh)Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah) Yeah (Yeah)Jay-Z:Yeah, uh-huh, what the fuckTwo asked quick for bastards to step toLeave wounds too drastic for rescueWhen I rock jewels it ain't to impress youWhat the fuck niggas commentin on my shit fo'I'm real - how you think I got rich ho?Pack steel - ain't afraid to let a clip goI got enough paper to get lowCome back when the shit blow over get the dough overHuh wit the Rover snatch the gat from the clip holderRip through ya shoulder bitch it's Jay-hovahI'm too right wit it, too tight wit itYou light witted but if you're feel ya nice nigga spit itWho am I?JAY-Z motherfuckerDo or dieIN BROWNSVILLE motherfuckerBlocka, rocka, M.O.P collaboFront on us and gats blow ya know?Chorus: 2X