Brooklyn Stand Up - Papoose

March to the Thugacation soldiers

Brooklyn, New York

Let’s go, Thuga, Thuga, C’mon

'Cause when the block start clickin'

The fiends smokin' and sniffin'

And the guns get the spittin' away (Yeah!)

Stick up kids keep stickin'

From new Lots to Pitkin

Brownsville, stand up

What it do, dude, what

We was doin' the dyin'

When them dudes wasn’t doin' a thing

In Crown Heights, chain hang

East New York, same thing

Bed-Stuy, stand up

'Cause if

You got grams and I got grams, let’s put our

Grams together and lock these grams

If we can’t eat together, then you ain’t my mans

So when you see me in th streets, don’t shake my hand, if

You got guns and I got guns, let’s put our

Guns togethr and lock this, son

If you don’t want to roll with me I’mma pop you, son

If you ain’t with me, you against me, I don’t bite my tongue

I get it gully, bet you like that, huh

Where the weed, nigga light that up

Ayo, I fight the night shifts 'till I knock out mornings

Used to jump crackheads when the block got boring

Come to your hood and make it hot, 'cause I got mine scorching

I walk around with no ID, I got warrants

The cab driver drop me off, with my mouth yawnin'

He said the cab was seven dollars, but I hopped out on him

Tried to ask me for his bread, so I wild' out on him

'Caught him with a two-piece, left him knocked out snorin'

Niggas takin' this for granted, we want (?)

He don’t want to make enemies, he want friends

Put the gun in his mouth, yeah it’s me again

Leave your tongue hangin' out, like beat up Timbs

What type of situation did you leave us in?

If you can’t write fire, give me your pen

You come from a hood, that we re-up in

BK, that’s the borough niggas G’d up in

You better watch, how you pull your V up, slim

Keep the window low enough, so I can see your chin

Who the fucks hood you think your tryin' to creep up in?

If the window’s low enough to stick the Nina in

I’mma throw the drop on you and your three-butt-mens

If you ain’t creepin' on me, keep your seat up then

Why you keep actin' like you got the brains of prophet?

Pluck y’all niggas and rip you lames out the socket

Lil nigga, you a faggot who came out the closet

Hold you by your ankles and shake your change out your pockets

Go the Heckler & Koch, I ain’t even got to cock it, it’s double action

Pop you, I pull it out and the lock it

The streets is mine, the bars is mine, give it back

Papoose, I’m the new era like a fitted cap

Rappers ain’t the same when you see 'em in person

Some of them act tough 'till you murk 'em

Son knows, he can’t come in my hood, 'cause I’mma hurt him

I stop son from coming' in like curtains

I mastered this, so I spit at you wisely

I’m your master, like your original copy

If I die tryin', I’mma be rich in the afterlife then

At the crossroads to the riches with lavish items

A lot of rappers sellin' their souls, I’d rather price 'em

So pass the scalpel, his Adam’s apple, I’ll have to slice 'em

You savage triflin' and backwards bitin', (?)

So for my borough I sacrifice 'em

I stab 'em twice and dagger dice 'em, now that’s excitement

They flashin' sirens, they passin' (?) as fast as lightning

Beat you up with my bare hands, you faggots frightened

What did he use to put the (?) on 'em?

Is that a trident?

'Cause when the block start clickin'

The fiends smokin' and sniffin'

And the guns get the spittin' away

Stick up kids keep stickin'

From new Lots to Pitkin

Brownsville, stand up

What it do, dude, what

We was doin' the dyin'

When them dudes wasn’t doin' a thing

In Crown Heights, chain hang

East New York, same thing

Bed-Stuy, stand up