Brooklyn babies (исполнитель: RZA)

(Tiffany)
Bobby, I'm tired of yo' [bad word]  [bad word] 
I'm tired of [bad word]  in at 3 o'clock in the mornin' [bad word]  you got a family here
You act like you don't [bad word]  know that [bad word] [bad word]  what the [bad word] 

(RZA (*overlapped by [bad word] ))
Yo, yo, yo, yo..
Growin' up in crazy Cali
Yo, yo, yo..
 [bad word] 1 - Force MD's)
Digital, these niggas should be crazy
Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby
Bedstuy, this is my life..

(RZA)
Yo, yo, yo..
Brooklyn baby, I was bron up in King's County
Inside the womb seven months before the Queen found me
Up in wroughty Brownsville with fiends around me
Now roam gat in Staten with Cream Team around me
They called me Bobby, cousin, really got the black Harley
Taught his son how to spike cats like Lee Harvey
Oswald, all's well that ends well
My big brother Divine, he pushed the Benz well
I got the cherry Range, broke and rockin' heavy chains
I'm from the tribe of men who would bury Kings
On the back of the A-train, my daydream
Should I make a phat hit or should I take CREAM?
From the Clan that taught you [bad word] I make soul grind tracks, you grab [bad word] too
Give respect to the Prince when he pass through
Might have a chocolate deluxe in a glass shoe
Cousin Billy, known to strap the black uzi
Two-two in front of the Jakes like [bad word] Live on TV where you see B-O-B-B-Y
D-I-G-I-T-A-L, A-L, things ain't too well
 [bad word] 1)
 [bad word] 2 - Force MD's)
Digital, these niggas should be crazy
Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby
This is how I live my life..

(Masta Killa)
Yeah..
Peace Lafyetee, Stuyvessant, Malcolm X
Shot dice on green, we live from Calasky y'all
It's Fred Glassy, zig-zag-zig through traffic
Get the herb, get the God, peace Ra'
What's the word on things?
Through the phone I heard the bangin' sounds
in the background, layin' down
I'm spittin' what the people missin'
We extreme with the murder type theme
Don't sleep, get ya head split to the white meat
Big guns, down South we blaze
Shippin' bodies back up North, it's the Weston
Wild Texan, no trespassin'
Long mics hit the dead arm
Planet Earth, home of Islam
Brooklyn, I was physically born, clothes torn
Rough tacklin' the streets, Allah Math' spine Technics
We bring heat to the block party, drinkin' Bacardi
Baggin' shorties for the homies who ain't here
 [bad word] - both to fade)

(Tiffany (*overlapped by [bad word] ))
Bobby, that's right, you ain't [bad word]  [bad word] You ain't [bad word]  but a big [bad word] and a [bad word]  cheque
All that [bad word]  Brooklyn [bad word]  Shaolin [bad word] [bad word]  grow the [bad word] up!
What the [bad word] is up with you, [bad word] 
You ain't [bad word]  [bad [bad word]  in high off that [bad word] What the [bad word] 
I'm tired of yo' [bad word] What the [bad word] is that [bad word] anyway?
What the [bad word] 
And your cousin Billy, I'm sick of that [bad word] That [bad word] could [bad word] up in this [bad word]  house ever again
He's a criminal [bad word]  gangsta, see that [bad word] 
criminal, I'm sick of that [bad word] I'm sick of yo' [bad word]  Bobby (*echoes*)
Brooklyn this, Shaolin that
What the [bad word]  [bad word] 
I don't know why I love your stupid [bad word] anyway
Pssh.. but I do love you Bobby
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