| This is WKYA Radio, you motherfuckers!
|
| We got our next caller on the air!
|
| Bitch, you on the line!
|
| (Yo, this is Big Tracy)
|
| (I don’t give a fuck, nigga!)
|
| (Give me some of that shit straight out of The BRICK CITY!)
|
| THE BRICK CITY!
|
| For my nigga Guts
|
| We was thinkin' about you on this one, Guts
|
| Hold your head up, baby
|
| We got you on this one!
|
| This is for everybody from the block
|
| Everybody from the crews
|
| You know who you are
|
| No newcomers
|
| (Let 'em know, son!)
|
| (Let 'em know, son!)
|
| This is how we do it, baby!
|
| (Let 'em know!)
|
| Open up on 'em!
|
| Go ahead!
|
| Yo, When I D-I-P, I V-I-P
|
| I’m Doctor, I rush niggas to emergency
|
| Open heart, filled with darts
|
| +99 Agents+, know they +Get Smart+
|
| When I throw it in park
|
| Pop the trunk, sellin' CD’s $ 15's for chumps
|
| Cause I’m like Noah’s Ark from the slums
|
| Holla' at cha frog, I’m getting them +Bud+
|
| Like them frogs on the log
|
| I’m balls to the wall
|
| When I do anything, nothing’s hard
|
| I make it easy and talk greasy to broads
|
| GILLA! |
| Say my name 5 times in the mirror!
|
| I’m jumpin' out — whoa!
|
| You can hear the
|
| Sounds of the motherfuckin' men
|
| Tryin' to get your chain
|
| Tryin' to get cha chay-e-ain!
|
| Flush this down the drain
|
| I’m the new raw on the streets
|
| You can get 10 years per each song
|
| Catch a contact, what I write from the arm
|
| Now little white kids bring pipes to the prom
|
| I was supposed to quit, be an influence
|
| But, the weed is like +Nike+ -- I JUST DO IT!
|
| I’m ET zooted, way out there
|
| You got weed?
|
| Then, roll with the Sonny and Cher
|
| Suffering succotash, I leave you suckers sufferin'
|
| Huffin' and puffin', at last!
|
| This is Brick City! |
| (gun shots)
|
| Hear the gunshots, where they hate cops (sirens)
|
| On every block, there’s a weed spot
|
| This is Brick City! |
| (gun jams)
|
| Hear the gun jam, if you don’t run fam-i-ly with a suntan
|
| This is Brick City! |
| (rapid-fire gunshots)
|
| Hear the gun spit, niggas jump ship
|
| Where we spit, cause we run shit
|
| Play pussy wit' us
|
| And get fucked quick
|
| Who got the duchess?
|
| Yo, I keep the ghetto in me
|
| I love the sweet taste of revenge
|
| I’m focused, my soul’s been cleansed
|
| Now I know who the enemy, and who the friend
|
| But still, with my eyes closed, they both blend
|
| I’m not a follower, I start the trend
|
| Y’all can follow that dummy
|
| I’mma follow this money
|
| Now I’m at the age, where I need to get paid
|
| If a nickel bag gets sold in the park — heyyyyyyy!
|
| Did I stu-stutter?
|
| I got the guns and butter
|
| My craftwork be movin' the numbers
|
| I keep a +Roscoe+ like Kurupt, brother
|
| Hang out my window — BLAOW!
|
| What up, fucker?
|
| Violence sells, but I ain’t a violent male
|
| But if you violate, I’ll play the violin well
|
| From Bricks to Park Hill
|
| Don’t be like Zoolander, waitin' for that Blue Steel
|
| To be shown on your grill
|
| This is Brick City! |
| (gun shots)
|
| Hear the gunshots, where they hate cops (sirens)
|
| On every block, there’s a weed spot
|
| This is Brick City! |
| (gun jams)
|
| Hear the gun jam, if you don’t run fam-i-ly with a suntan
|
| This is Brick City! |
| (rapid-fire gunshots)
|
| Hear the gun spit, niggas jump ship
|
| Where we spit, cause we run shit
|
| Play pussy wit' us
|
| And get fucked quick
|
| Who got the duchess?
|
| Yo, right here! |
| Yeah!
|
| The Gilla House niggas in the motherfuckin buildin, mayne!
|
| Goddamn, nigga!
|
| Big Nuts, uptown
|
| What it is, mayne?
|
| WKYA
|
| Gilla House Radio |