Bring Em Up Dead - Statik Selektah, Joell Ortiz

«Bring 'em up dead» — Onyx

«Statik Selektah»

«Can you say New York City?»

«Your mind is all about crime, your mind is all about crime» — Onyx

«Bring 'em up dead»

«Your mind is all about crime, your mind is all about crime»

«Bring 'em up dead»

We dump lead like a Brita

Mutate ninjas with shells, no Shredder, no Splinter

Hit you in the leg if you turn sprinter

We corner store bread winners, North Face in the dead of winter

Nose running, block hugging, snap a picture

I’ll show you how to do this son

Turn a 8-ball into a pool table that’ll fill up your pockets in six months

Twist blunts, wishing I could go back just once

Man I miss the old New York, I’ll fuck around and get fronts

You kids front like you tough but you snitching

You’ll do anything to get out of them cuffs like magicians

Everybody I dap will give anybody a nap

Have a crowd screaming «Wait!»

like everybody is fat

I joke about it because I lived it then I wrote about it

Flowed about it, hopped on stage, did some shows about it

But I’m not these rapper niggas, dog I’m so about it

Little argument, I probably hook that’s how I go about it

Word though, I tell your bird whoa, easy on the brain

Slurp slow, girl I’m swerving I don’t want to hit the curb yo

That’s the perks though, I get a couple bands

Ice flood a couple bands every time I let a verse go

I’m on a low-carb cheating

All this bread got these wolves eyeing mine but you’ll be clinging to that bed

I’m from the home of the homeless, nobody wand is chromeless

Police try to regulate but we own this, fiends throw on loafers

Toes frozen sliding through the snow just to try to sell they sofas

Hocus pocus you disappear from all that smoking

Yellow white rock is more than potent, it’s soul-controlling

And we in sole control

The more dough you fold, you scale that totem pole

The hoes grope your pole, the shooters on pay roll

You ready to rock n' roll, they ain’t hopping out of patrol cars no mo'

But it ain’t sweet nah

You graduated now them feds want to speak hah

What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?

Well keep it shut or my alley cats’ll scratch at ya gums

Do the crime, gotta eat that time soldier

Hang that up bad boy, slide time is over

I got roughed up by the roughers, fucked up motherfuckers

Escaped hopping them gates and scuffed up all my chukkas

And I’m still running but not from shit

I just been on a shitting run, nigga I run shit

You old ass niggas hating cause your son flipped

Whenever he hear that yaowa after the drum hit (yaowa)

Your slum bitch give you a cum kiss

I keep a bad young bitch that squirt, when I fuck her feel like she cum piss

I tell shorty «suck my soft dick and…»