Breakin' the Rules - M.O.P.

I’mma semi-automatic addict for real

Before you test me

Know I feel that the impact from a gat when it kicks back is sexy

I put you motherfuckers back on the real tip

And get to splitting a nigga’s shit

(Ain't nothin changed) I take these motherfuckers back to '86

And get to dumpin off a clip

(You know the game) You wanna test me?

(You gotta)

Wait your turn B

There’s a long line of niggas that’s ready to burn me

I put my foot down firmly

Stick the nose of my gun in some shit that don’t concern me

And most dudes don’t like the way I rep

The brown-skinned cat with a helluva side step, yep

Berkowitz, (Retreat!)

I would never be disconnected from these streets

Its deep, as the (ocean!) and my (potion!)

Is to (know when!) to spit fire, nigga (nigga)

The rules of the motherfucking game…

Here it is: ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)

When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)

Cause some cats be fakin the move

In other words, breakin the rules!

(STOP THAT!)

We make ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)

When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)

Cause some cats be fakin the move

In other words, breakin the rules!

Make way, bitch, I’m coming through

I’m Fizzy Wo dog, who the fuck are you?

Y’all niggas be, listenin to that false information

Here’s your invitiation

Thugs know home team from the BK and move niggas

Run with them guns bust off like John Woo

Try to sabotage the game, I’mma start somethin

Try to sabotage my name, I’mma start dumpin!

Why do fucking motherfuckers act like y’all don’t be known?

Fizzy Wo, nigga, going for broke

So when you loc, come and hit you with something that gigantic

Automatic and will make your ship sink like the Titanic

Now that I know, that you against me

And you *click*, you *click*, you against me, too

Tell his man, to tell his man, work out another master plan

Cause I’mma blast a man, what?

Here it is: ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)

When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)

Cause some cats be fakin the move

In other words, breakin the rules!

(STOP THAT!)

We make ghetto music (ROCK THAT!)

When it drop, if its proper (COP THAT!)

Cause some cats be fakin the move

In other words, breakin the rules!

Allow me to express my deepest sympathy

To the family of the cat, that, was hit with the penalty

I begged him not to fuck with me (I tried)

He didn’t listen

So they found his ass missing

Put my barrel of my hammer in the back of his mouth

And knocked his head out, do or dead now

Cold, he actually thought I would fold

So I tore him a new hole, word to nigga’s soul!

When I jump off, or I dump off, about eight rounds

Holdin my spot down, I’mma knock down, about eight clowns

Nigga, don’t you ever fuck around

With the four-pound token

Bonified thugster (what!) Brownsville slugger

Ex-mugger, for your knucka, bucka, bucka

Bitch motherfucker!

(Fuck ya)

You musta bought a can of heart

Flinch and I’mma tear your ass apart

Come on, straight like that, nigga

Firing Squad, nigga.

Ha-ha-hah.

Hundred years and runnin.

Yeah, one of

My motherfuckin men, Flipper the Ripper.

Y’know what I’m sayin, my

Nigga City, Teflon.

Firing Squad, nigga.

For life *echoes* Yeah