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Brooklyn Babies (Feat. Masta K

Bobby, I'm tired of yo' shit, nigga!

I'm tired of you comin' in at 3 o'clock in the fucking mornin'

(Yo, yo, yo, yo)

Nigga, you got a family here

You act like you don't fuckin' know that shit

(Check)

(Yo, yo, yo)

Nigga, what the fuck?(Yo, yo, yo, yo)

Digital, these niggas should be crazy

(Growin' up in crazy Cali)

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

(Yo, yo, yo)

Bedstuy, this is my life

(Yo, yo, yo)A Brooklyn baby, I was born up in King's County

Inside the womb seven months before the Queen found me

Up in wroughty Brownsville with fiends around me

Now roam gat in Staten with cream team around meThey called me Bobby, cousin, really got the black Harley

Taught his son how to spike cats like Lee Harvey

Oswald, all's well that ends well

My big brother Divine, he pushed the Benz wellI got the cherry Range, broke and rockin' heavy chains

I'm from the tribe of men who would bury Kings

On the back of the A-train, my daydream

Should I make a phat hit or should I take cream?From the Clan that taught you Cash Rules

I make soul grind tracks, you grab ass too

Give respect to the Prince when he pass through

Might have a chocolate deluxe in a glass shoeCousin Billy, known to strap the black Uzi

Two-two in front of the Jakes like Jack Ruby

Live on TV where you see be-O-be-be-why

D-I-G-I-T-A-L, A-L, things ain't too wellDigital, these niggas should be crazy

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

Bedstuy, this is my lifeDigital, these niggas should be crazy

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

This is how I live my life

(Yeah)Peace Lafyetee, Stuyvesant, Malcolm X

Shot dice on green, we live from Calasky y'all

It's Fred Glassy, zig-zag-zig through traffic

Get the herb, get the God, peace Ra'What's the word on things?

Through the phone I heard the bangin' sounds

In the background, layin' down

I'm spittin' what the people missin'

We extreme with the murder type theme

Don't sleep, get ya head split to the white meatBig guns, down South we blaze

Shippin' bodies back up North, it's the Weston

Wild Texan, no trespassin'

Long mics hit the dead arm

Planet Earth, home of IslamBrooklyn, I was physically born, clothes torn

Rough tacklin' the streets, Allah Math' spine Technics

We bring heat to the block party, drinkin' Bacardi

Baggin' shorties for the homies who ain't hereDigital, these niggas should be crazy

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

Bedstuy, this is my life(Bobby, you know why, that shit I said about you)

Digital, these niggas should be crazy

(That's right, you ain't shit, nigga)

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

(You ain't shit, but a big dick and a mothafuckin' cheque)

This is how I live my life

(All that fuckin' Brooklyn shit, Shaolin shit)(Nigga, grow the fuck up!)

Digital, these niggas should be crazy

(What the fuck is up with you, nigga?)

(You ain't shit, nigga)

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

(Comin' in high off that shit)

(What the fuck?)

Bedstuy, this is my life

(I'm tired of yo' shit)

(What the fuck is that shit anyway?)(What the fuck?)

Digital, these niggas should be crazy

(And your cousin Billy, I'm sick of that mothafucka)

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

(That mothafucka could never come up in this)

This is how I live my life

(Mothafuckin' house ever again)(He's a criminal mothafuckin' gangsta, see that shit?)

Digital, these niggas should be crazy

(A criminal, I'm sick of that shit)

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

(I'm sick of yo' shit, Bobby)

Bedstuy, this is my life

(Brooklyn this, Shaolin that)

(What the fuck, nigga?)Digital, these niggas should be crazy

(I don't know why I love your stupid ass anyway)

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

(Pssh, but I do love you Bobby )

This is how I live my lifeDigital, these niggas should be crazy

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

Bedstuy, this is my lifeDigital, these niggas should be crazy

Growin' up as a Brooklyn baby

This is how I live my life

Songwriters

Diggs Robert F; Turner ElginPublished by

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