Brooklyn Boyz ft. y2k, Rockness Monsta, Ruste Juxx, Streetmatic & Ray Loot Lyrics

We them Brooklyn boys, we know where you stay at (Ah Ha)

Brooklyn boys, we know where you lay at (Ah Ha, Ah Ha)

Brooklyn with that X-Town grind

It's that old school, new school, sound in its prime

(Ruste Juxx)

This is Crown Heights talking

Opps from the past, they ain't still around walking

Six feet underground, in a coffin

Forty-four Bulldog, still barking

Chalking your body, then you're bagged and zipped up

Placed in a morgue, toe-tagged and clipped up

My aim precise, I launch and lift

So provoke and get smoked, like a ganja spliff

Clappin' crackers, whether Karen or Ken

Sixteen slugs, I be airing the pen

Droppin' a gem, givin' you jewels for your appraisal

Cut you open from your neck to your navel (Damn)

So be grateful, you sparred with a warrior

Bagged queens from Flushing to Astoria (BRTTT)

Rusty Juxx spit ammo

So we could either go Rocky or Rambo

Yo (Streetmatic)

I was livin' a thug life like Tupac

Some niggas say I got the juice, like Q on the rooftop

My whole crew's hotter than a prostitute on New Lots

Your crew not

Y'all sang to the cops like a jukebox

I'm too hot, I rap different, I trap different, my swag different

I mac different, relax pimpin

I be reminiscing way back, when I was yak sipping

Two dimes at the same time, when I was jacked, tripping

R.I.P. Hass, your big bro's still a goat

I'm fly like an eagle, plus I'm wavier than most folks

But these bars I provide be so dope

Cause Streetmatic go hard, and praise god, like the Pope

Great with the grammar

In the booth, straight go bananas

Erasing these amateurs, no case, no face on the camera

Hate, cause you garbage, you wack rappers basically average

We're faithfully savage

Streetmatic, Ray Loot and Ravage

Yo, it's been a whole lot of backstabbing

Holes in the back, hoes on their backs

Took a shot of Jack in the booth, said I'm back (Ray Loot)

Niggaz capping when they rappin

Acting like they're the captain of clapping

Lights, camera action, I'm dragging them in this fashion

Hard to fathom my status, I belong in a palace

Smashing an Ice Spice look alike, smoking a chalice (You Wilding)

A bad marriage, would have you living like a savage

Late night, bagged a scavenger, department store manager

Gas station pills, stamina, caught on camera

Heard I got fans in Amsterdam and even Canada

You know how Banner get, when the gamma hit

Heard your man was dissing Foster Sin, then he heard the hammer click

Respect the architect, or get sparks up on your neck

Then, probably catch a charge, of bodily harming the innocent

Approaching any crook

With a Rusty Juxx

Matic and Ray Rav

Said we don't need a hook

Yo, the one to play with, I'm the last one, it's Rav-mond (Ray Rav)

Your glass jaw breaks, if you play with my passion

I'm from a place where they stack ones and pack guns

Pockets on a diet, but they could roll a fat one

Went to school in the zoo, seen cats turn snake and rat

I know a demon who could get Satan clapped

The youngest in charge, got 'em catching vapors, like he make the raps

Think somebody better, you must be high off K2, laced with crack

It's him, the only one, I'm simply stating that

Dancing with death, I had too many dates with that

MILFs in my DM, 'cause the way I break them backs

But when I'm done with shorty, you could take her back

Now I got 'em all seasick

Cause they know I'ma be rich, get a Benzo

Put your hoe in the back, to hide her (Tejada)

Like Monet, and Lorenzo

Then, Ghost her

Every verse, unrehearsed

In the Brook, I put in work

From Cozine to Church

We them Brooklyn boys, we know where you stay at (Ah Ha)

Have my hitter slide through, where you lay at

Brooklyn boys

We the, we them Brooklyn boys

(Brooklyn keeps on takin' it)

We them Brooklyn boys, we know where you stay at