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letra de harlem shaking* - dudeylo & bbg steppaa

-lyrics from unreleased full snippet-

[intro]
mc, make another hit
project- project x
project- project x (ayyolu-)
project- project x

[pre-chorus: bbg steppaa]
ay, ay
like i really hate opps
broad day, we gon’ spin through the 8 block
bark from the ar too, he caught a k shot
and since we on that topic, still smokin’ on faceshot
uh, b-tch i be posted with a .9
i cannot run ’cause my bro let the [?] shine
i don’ got booked with the .40, i hate mine
but i made n-ggas put law & order to k shine

[chorus: dudeylo]
walk down good, sing on his block like
i don’ seen sh-t that these n-ggas ain’t seen
therapy, all my pain on a beat
i lost bro that sh-t turned me a bеast
like hold on
i shoot movies on blocks like kj
down thе steps i was fl!ckin’ with aj
in the bronx, i was fl!ckin’ with jj
see a jet, i start yellin’ out “melee”
[verse 1: dudeylo & bbg steppaa]
wait, who shot him?
wait, still n0body knows
fresh with the drill, could’ve bought all the clothes
rule number 1: gotta make it back home
n-ggas be bogus, if you notice
we got harlem, we shakin’ the towns
how many n-ggas we put in the ground?
she tried to run and got hit with the–
we x ’em out, no mcvertt
we gave all them the belt and it hurt
run ’em down, i’ma get to ’em first
nugget head, he got hit up the worst
n-ggas p-ssy, i know the real in them
this heater blow, it’s goin’ up and it’s k!llin’ ’em
my heart shapin’ so, ahh i be feelin’ it
and the sounds of the streets, we was healin’ it
(uh)

[verse 2: bbg steppaa]
tg got hit in the store, he ain’t make it
do a drill, nike ski and some asiks
hit the a, n-gga back to the basics
face got faced, roll him up, i’m impatient
we in newark city, rollin’ with ace t
when my brodie shoot, no he don’t gotta say sh-t
we be cookin’ these n-ggas like bacon
when you jump out that ride, put your mask on, jason
any block, we could take us a trip
brodie drive while i bang out the whip
i’ma throw nine, brodie gon’ throw six
if the d’s tryna opp, then we breakin’ a miss
g45, it be breakin’ a wrist
tryna slide, then we bakin’ the whip
n-ggas hidin’ they fake as a b-tch
and lil dudey have ‘za, i be fakin’ a hit
[verse 3: bloodie & dudeylo]
and your bro died and he can’t come back
not gon’ lie, that sh-t wack
word to bro, man that sh-t get me mad
i get to makkin’ in the back of the back
i hit the block, no dates and i trap
car, tires, stuffed with the packs
word to bro, bruh this ‘life’ sh-t wack
mans grandma, was servin’ her crack
(grrah grrah)
if he try to reverse the car, hear a boom
he popped off then he gettin’ them too
i love ho’s but i don’t got a boo
ain’t cuffin’ no thots, boy these b-tches be used
cuffin’ this b-tch? these b-tches be bops
she gon’ die tryna be a lil line
opp thot, she can’t come to my block
get f-cked in the staircase, one at a time (walk down)

[chorus: dudeylo & bloodie]
walk down good, sing on his block like
i don’ seen sh-t that these n-ggas ain’t seen
therapy, all my pain on a beat
i lost bro that sh-t turned me a beast
like hold on
i shoot movies on blocks like kj
down the steps i was fl!ckin’ with aj
in the bronx, i was fl!ckin’ with jj
see a jet, i start yellin’ out “melee” (time)

- dudeylo bbg steppaa

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