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letra de street team (remix) - kool g rap

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hey yo we bringin you the international vibe live from brownsville
where we juggle and struggle to survive (you know the deal)
we rhyme, from 12 to 12, schemin
in the cut on the corner by the bodega with the hammer steamin
friend, forgive him for his sins (he better watch his step)
mentally i’m home alone, and since you’re deaf
99.9 of the times i’ve got my mojo
buka-bup-bup-bup-bup-bup-bup-clak like whoa!
aiyyo i bring sorrow, you won’t make it to tomorrow
flames spit from the nozzle, pop one up in your (?)
(street team) east coast up, toast up
we don’t put posters up, we post up
i’ma front line n-gga, you don’t want mine n-gga
play tough – and i f-ck your sh-t buk buk
you have a wheelchair chaffeur with your arms in slings
both legs numb from them arms an’ tings
it’s the legendary street team!
[rap] kool g. rap’s (back!)
[fame] fizzy womack’s (back!)
[bill] billy danze (aww d-mn!)
[rap] that’s how we do it in the ghetto
spit fire from the heavy metal (where you at?)
aiyyo – my attributes of life, never too nice, the rules are too trife
you lose life, hit for blue ice, dead over two dice
my ape cl!ck, potty chips, body sh-t
chinese cl!ck on you stick you like poli-grip
one false move and your body ripped, n-ggas lay in they lobbies hit
the back of my gun is like a karate fl!ck, gotti sh-t
mothers and hotties hit, we stash cash sellin dope’n
cops on the rooftop be telescopin, be tryin to bust your melon open
gates of heaven is closed, h-ll is open, sh-lls are smokin
road blocks, yellow tape from four shots
murder plot door knocks, heads drop inside of co-ops
get buried in corn crops, with tall tops
hammers drop, magnums pop, you get spotted
on some six o’clock sh-t on your magnavox
taggin your knot, stab a lot, with ice pick sh-t, and b-tch we rip sh-t
iller than pillsbury with the biscuits
hey yo we step up in the club, in a disrespectful manner
stomp through the crowd wavin the m.o.p. banner
keep fresh coppertops, in the player hater scanner
who am i? (william danze) right, then you don’t wanna know the man
(ohh!) the hooded soldier, one should never overlook
in posession of eternal life as a crook
it been written in the books, embedded in the streets
yeah, pushed out of crack spots
and bumped out of jeeps!
i’m from a place where cats look conspicuous and rob
fitzroy, p-noid, stickin to his arms
catch you at a pay phone, kickin it to moms
lift your +face/off+ like nicholas and john
(wave your flag partner!) put a hole where you think at
(bam bam!) pop a hole in your mink hat
brownsville motherf-cker it’s so true
put that ass in a three-piece suit with no shoes
y’all n-ggas act like y’all know
first family, black guerilla family, united, y’know?
it’s a queens and b’ville thing, word up
y’all n-ggas come scr-p witcha’ll heat
or get laid the f-ck down, word up, no games
y’all n-ggas know
b-tch-ass n-ggas

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